


The Soul of the Wolves

by LR_Earl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Grey!Dumbledore, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Multi, Post-Order of the Phoenix AU, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threesomes, Triad - Freeform, Violence, Werewolf Mates, ancient spells, shifting into werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 07:12:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 128,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12789474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LR_Earl/pseuds/LR_Earl
Summary: AU Sixth Year. Draco Malfoy partners with Harry and Hermione in exchange for protection. Unknowingly, the teens enter an ancient mating ritual intended for werewolves. As the ritual grants them heightened powers, things start to get hot for the trio. Can they use this bond to defeat the Dark Lord without giving in to their carnal urges? 2018 Granger Enchanted Awards - Best Hero!Hermione nominee.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to 'The Soul of the Wolves' v.2.0! I took down the first iteration of this story, edited, and tinkered with the plot and characters a bit. As such, parts of this story have been revamped and expanded. So, to those who read v.1.0 (original publication August 2013), feel free to give this updated venture a shot if you wish. Everyone else new to this story, welcome aboard! This story is complete and will update regularly.
> 
> I am honored to announce that "The Soul of the Wolves" has been nominated in the H.B.I.C. Best Hero!Hermione category at the 2018 Enchanted Awards. Thank you so much for nominating this fic. I am so humbled. Voting in the semi-finals begin March 18th, 2018 in the Granger Enchanted Survivors Facebook group, if you feel so inclined to vote. Thank you again, loves, and please do enjoy! X
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters, or world found within. All of the characters and world recognized below belong to J.K. Rowling. This is pure entertainment.

 

Prologue

June 1997

Fenrir Greyback and his werewolves hastily made their way towards Hogwarts' Great Hall eager to take part in the attack on Hogwarts. Tonight was the night Dumbledore got what was coming to him. According to Dark Lord's plan, the Malfoy brat was supposed to have let his group in, but when the time came for them to enter through the repaired vanishing cabinet, the young Malfoy was nowhere to be found. The small group of Death Eaters and werewolves found themselves alone in the Room of Hidden Things.

No matter, Fenrir followed behind Bellatrix's shrill calls and cackles as she made her way to the Astronomy Tower. Severus Snape followed dutifully behind her. His group was to remain on the first floor, patrolling for anyone who would dare interfere.

Blood would be spilt this night.

He could smell the fresh blood of the young that slept within the ancient halls; he had to restrain himself from going on the hunt. The Dark Lord had promised his fill of young witches and wizards to turn when he began his new world order, but for now, he had to wait.

Two of his pack members he had personally turned, paced behind him, eager to get on with the night's activities. Ten years ago, Kaley Nightingale and Russell Ballard were only fifteen and sixteen when Fenrir turned them, but it did the job. Ostracized from their families, they willingly joined his pack and his rank grew. He had been steadily growing his numbers when a shaky truce with the newly-resurrected Voldemort commenced.

He halted his march down the corridor and ordered the two behind him as he lifted his nose in the air and inhaled. He pulled up short as he came face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, still pale and arrogant as ever, standing alone in the dark corridor.

So now the Malfoy prince decided to show himself. "Young Malfoy," Fenrir spoke through sharp teeth. "Wonderful of you to join us, this evening."

"I'm not here to join you, Greyback," the pup sneered.

Fenrir cocked his head in question. "No? Peculiar. The Dark Lord will be interested in why you decided to disappear. He'll reward me handsomely for bringing you in."

"Not happening," the young Malfoy muttered darkly, one shoulder rolling in irritation.

"So, you're going to stop me by yourself, then?" Fenrir rolled his own shoulders and signaled to Nightingale and Ballard.

"No," came another voice from around the corner. Decidedly male and not Malfoy's.

"We are," a female voice joined the first.

How fortuitous! The Boy-Who-Lived and his Mudblood bitch decided to offer themselves as a gift to the Dark Lord, as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger moved to stand beside the Malfoy heir. Well, if they were willing to offer, who was he to not to take?

Just as he was about to lower himself to the ground and charge, he paused as a red aura simmered and moved to encompass the three teens. It grew and hummed with power as they neared each other and blocked his path to the main corridor.

The three stood before him. He could not smell their fear at all. Usually, witches and wizards cowered in fear before his pack, but no such emotion radiated from them. He seethed in anger, but quickly wrote it off.

Fenrir clucked his tongue, amused. "We'll see about that." Through the pull of his rank as Alpha, he summoned his pack to attack. Both Nightingale and Ballard transformed into wolves before him.

With a sideways glance to Potter, who sharply nodded in reply, Malfoy and the Granger girl simultaneously dropped to their knees and transformed into their true forms.

Fenrir pulled back in shock at the power that vibrated against the stone walls as the trio shifted. A gold, silver, and black wolf stood in their place, as they dropped into defensive positions.

Fenrir sneered in disdain at the reveal.

"Ah, an  _âme de loups_. Why, of course," Fenrir growled and bared his teeth. "Never thought I'd see the day where a true soul bonding would be achieved in my lifetime. Nonetheless, with three." He shrugged. "Still, you're no match for my pack, young ones, and after the Dark Lord eviscerates your side, I'll take your bitch for my own." He threw his head at the pretty, golden wolf with large, amber eyes. Yes, a  _lupa_ would fit nicely within his pack, even though Nightingale had been recently petitioning for the position. He could feel from here that the golden wolf across from him was a true  _lupa._ His cock hardened at the thought of rutting against her.

She would be  _his_.

The black wolf growled and bared his teeth, while the silver wolf stepped in front of the golden wolf in like manner. Power radiated off the pair of them as protective instincts went into overdrive.

Fenrir laughed and right before he shifted, he snarled, " 'Ave it your way, then." He commanded his pack to wait while he shifted and took point. His adrenaline was fueled by the scent of a  _lupa_  in heat. Her thick arousal filled his nostrils as Ballard, next to him, howl in delight and anticipation.

 _Foolish of you to let your bitch out now. She'll be pregnant with my pups before the night is out_ , Fenrir telepathically snarled to the trio.

 _Please!_  Granger spat at him in disgust.

 _Fuck you_ , Malfoy gave in quick reply.

 _Over my dead body_ , Potter answered in kind as all three quickly dashed down the hallway to meet Fenrir and his wolves in battle. The  _âme de loups_  compelled them to protect their mate, their bond, and the Wizarding World.

* * *

_One Year Earlier_

"Believe me, I wouldn't have come if … well," a sixteen year-old Draco Malfoy faltered, his arrogant stance slipping uncharacteristically.

"Yeah, I know." Harry Potter ran a frustrated hand through messy hair and propped the door open, but he did not let his visitor inside. "Does anyone know you're here?"

A half-smirk graced Draco's lips as he produced a slip of parchment. "Severus gave me this piece of parchment with nothing but an address. Said Dumbledore gave it to him. But I couldn't exactly leave Father a note telling him I've left to join the other side, now could I?"

"Is that what this is?" The childhood adversaries locked in a contest of wills, neither one blinking, each sizing up the other. Years of distrust and hatred hung between the two.

The blond sneered before breaking the spell. "I wouldn't have come if it wasn't. Especially to you," he spat the last word as if it cursed him to admit the truth.

Harry regarded Draco with skeptical eyes. The young man had shown up at Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night, wearing nothing but a light robe, soaked in the unseasonably cold rain. "Fine," Harry pushed through his teeth, his grip tight on the wooden door. "We'll talk more inside. But this changes nothing, Malfoy. And Merlin help you, if you double cross me," he warned darkly.

Draco pushed past Harry, trekking rain water across his pajama top. He stood inside the entrance of the old Black family residence. "And Merlin help you, Potter, if you go back on your word."

The door shut on a tentative truce as rain continued to pummel outside. And so, their sixth year began.


	2. Chapter One

"Does anyone know I'm here?"

Harry Potter couldn't believe his Slytherin rival had come to him, of all people, for protection. After begrudgingly admitting him into Grimmauld Place, Harry had given Malfoy his word not to tell anyone he was there.

After his godfather's death, Harry thought a lot about Sirius and how everyone supposedly carrying dark and light within. It was what made him not turn the blond away on sight the night Malfoy showed at Grimmauld Place.

"No. I've been back and forth to the Burrow," Harry continued, despite Malfoy's disgusted face at mention of the Weasleys' home, "but I haven't told anyone yet. The Order will sometimes meet here, but I'll let you know before they arrive. Most haven't been by since Sirius … well ..."

"And what about our deal, Potter?"

Harry pushed his frames up his nose as he regarded the impatient wizard. "I'm working on it."

Truthfully, as of two weeks ago, Hermione was working on it. Harry had cornered the witch after her return from St. Mungo's. Her recovery took longer than expected, but eventually, she had recovered completely from Doholov's curse. Now, Harry sought a way to keep her safe in the forthcoming war. If this plan worked, he could possibly do both: keep his word to Malfoy and keep Hermione safe from further injury.

He had asked her a favor after spotting her at the Burrow one afternoon. He quickly outlined his need for a protection spell that would grant him the capabilities to discern if another were telling the truth, without the use of potions or spellwork. He needed it to be the strongest she could find, the truest she could find, and he needed  _her_  to perform it.

Harry wasn't going to bring Malfoy to the Order yet. Even if he did not trust Malfoy one knut, he wanted to wait until he was sure of Malfoy's intentions before he let the Order interrogate him.

Harry had also not told Ron about his unexpected summer visitor yet. It pained him to not involve his best mate, but his temper was legendary and would only lead them to hexes and bruises. No, a level-head was needed for time being. He was sure to get an earful once Ron did find out, but he was holding onto luck for the moment.

One of the reasons Hermione had agreed so quickly, Harry assumed, was that she thought the protection spell would be for her, Ron, and himself. He may or may not have been responsible for that belief with his omission by silence, but she continued on with her research with a promise to have something to him shortly. He would deal with her wrath, as well, once she found out  _who_  the spell was really for. His hope was once she found out  _why_  the spell was needed, she would not hex his toes off.

Malfoy's sharp sneer brought his mind back to the present. "Well, hurry the bloody hell up. I can't spend all summer in this shit hole." With a last nasty look, the blond sulked off for parts unknown.

Other than his surly attitude, which Harry would never get used to, Malfoy was like those annoying toy dogs his Aunt used to keen over. Removed from his natural surroundings and witless entourage, Draco Malfoy was basically all bark and no bite. Oh, the two still shouted at each other and he nearly punched the boy between the eyes the one time he almost called Hermione 'that word,' but after that, they had begrudgingly agreed to lay off of it for now. At least, until Harry could hold up his end of the bargain.

He had to admit it took a lot of humbling on Malfoy's part to seek aid on his own. And that he had not gone to Professors Dumbledore or to Snape, but to  _him,_  spoke volumes. Harry had asked him  _why_ as they sat, barely awake in the early morning hours, each waiting for the other to go sleep lest the other try to pull something. Malfoy had merely shrugged and said Harry was the only person who could understand the seriousness of what he was saying.

"I'm not a fool, Potter. I know  _he's_ back," Draco had wearily replied through sleep-laden eyes. "After my father was sent to Azkaban for his part at the Department of Mysteries, it was only a matter of time before  _he_ sought me out for my father's mistakes." Malfoy's voice lowered as he sunk further down into the couch, "I want no part of what he's offering. I saw what he did to my father after his failure to secure the prophecy …" he trailed off at that, lost in memories. "I knew then that I had to get out. He would come for me next, and I couldn't stay there any longer."

Harry regarded Malfoy's words. It was the first time he had heard him speak without animosity or malice. It was different and without it, he sounded like any other scared teenager, afraid for his life, well-being, and family. Harry supposed he could relate.

After the late night admission, both fell into a restless sleep. They had not had a physical fight since. Draco Malfoy was still a stuck-up and arrogant arse, evidenced by his mutterings on the condition of his late Godfather's home. But a truce had been called, and Harry resolved to follow-through on his promise.

A few weeks before they were due to return to Hogwarts, Hermione burst into Grimmauld Place on a hot and stuffy summer afternoon.

"I think I've found something!" His curly-haired best friend waved pieces of parchments in one hand as she excitedly hugged Harry in greeting. "I need to cross reference it with a text I found in the Black family library, but I think this may be it," she rushed out excitedly.

Harry followed her as they made their way to library on the second floor. He watched her melt into her element. She pulled books off the shelves as if she had already memorized them. Her fingers quickly flew through the pages in search of something.

"Well," he asked, impatiently. "What is it?"

She ignored him until she'd located what she had been searching for. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the text aloud. "It's an old spell borne of blood magic." She looked up to meet his eyes. "Are you  _sure_  this is what you want to do?" When he nodded, she continued, "It allows the caster and the recipient to enter a bond that is nigh unbreakable and indiscernible to any outsider. Thoughts, feelings, and true desires are laid bare before the other," she read aloud.

"Perfect," Harry remarked.

She continued. "There's more. The bond allows both to share and bolster each other's strengths and weaknesses. A true  _ame de loups_ is rare and difficult to cast and is said to be achieved by those who enter into it, willingly and open," she read from the text.

" _Ame de loups?_  What does that mean?"

She closed the book and rolled her eyes. "It means the 'soul of the wolf'. Whoever described this spell spent an insane amount of time detailing the rituals and mating habits of wolves. Apparently, this spell mimics their natural ability to read people, along with some of their other qualities." She put the book back on the shelf. "It was quite popular in eighteenth century wizarding France when  _ménage a trios_  were all the rage."

Harry swallowed in fear. "Umm, Hermione?"

Hermione laughed outright. Her neck stretched as she threw her head back in mirth. "Don't worry, Harry! It won't spell you into a  _ménage a trios_. In order for that to happen, all three participants would have to be true mates. You know, fated? I doubt you and Ron are 'fated' to be together," she laughed at the mental image of Ron and Harry fated as lovers, and shook her head to clear the image. She gathered her notes scattered on a nearby table.

Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. "Great, so what do we do? Flick of the wrist and an incantation?"

"Not exactly. Like I said, it's an ancient blood ritual. You'll need the blood of the caster and recipient. There are runes involved if I recall, and  _then,_  there's an incantation. Oh, and it has to be performed under a full moon."

"Luckily, there's a full moon tonight, then." A voice called from the doorway. Hermione whirled at the familiar drawl and quickly pulled out her wand. She was taken aback when Harry did not echo her movements and pull his own wand. "Oh ho, that's no way to treat a houseguest. Did muggle mummy and daddy teach you any manners?"

Malfoy moved further into the room and settled himself against the wall to watch the scene unfold between the two friends.

Hermione blinked in confusion, but kept her wand trained on Draco Malfoy. At Grimmauld Place. Moving around freely. Her mind swirled as she cut accusing eyes to Harry, who, wisely, started towards her with his palms held out. "What the  _hell_  is he doing here!?" she asked. "Have you lost your mind?"

Harry continued to inch closer, and when he got close enough, he pushed her wand arm down with great difficulty. Malfoy smirked as he bit into a green apple.

Her frown deepened as Malfoy smirked at her. She shook her head in disgust. "Harry. Explain,  _now_!"

Harry held her arms down, afraid if he let go, she would rush and attack the blond head on. Or more likely, him. "Just listen to me, alright! He — he showed up, alone, earlier this summer asking for help. I had no way of trusting him, hence why I need this spell to learn the truth. In turn, he wants protection from Voldemort. He's been here all summer, Hermione. He knows Voldemort's back and I swear, he hasn't done anything to make me not trust him."

"Two months doesn't compare to six years of torment, Harry!" she seethed as she struggled against his arms.

"Believe me, I know. And  _that's_ why I need you to do this spell, Hermione. I don't want to bring him to the Order just yet. I need to trust him before I do and you're the only one I trust enough to do this. I couldn't tell Ron 'cause he'd go ballistic, you know how he is, and…" He released her arms and took a step back. When he noticed her breathing had calmed enough to listen to reason, he continued, "You're the only person who'd figure out a way to make this work, and I trust you to be quiet about. We'll tell Ron and the others, I promise. But I needed to be sure about this first."

"I can't believe you hid this from everyone for two months, Harry," she spoke quietly. The hurt was clear in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I really am." He sighed in frustration. "It's just that, I gave him my word." He beseeched with his eyes for her to see things from his side. The summer humidity outside could not match the level of uncomfortableness in the small library.

Hermione shook her head and took a step back. "I need to think about this." She turned on her heel and quickly left the room.

"Well, that was fun," Malfoy replied as the tension ebbed.

Harry debated whether or not to follow his friend, but decided she needed time to think things through. He knew she would weigh a list of pros and cons the same way he had. He prayed she would come to the same conclusion. Otherwise, this would have all been for naught. "Stuff it, Malfoy. You're not helping matters." He warily dropped into a chair as Malfoy moved to exit the room.

"We're doing this tonight, Potter. You better make sure she's on board," he warned as he left.

Afternoon faded into sunset and still, Hermione had not returned. Harry and Malfoy sat silently in the library as the sun set. Suddenly, Harry noticed he had no backup plan in case she did not agree. They would be effectively stuck; they were too close to start of the new school year, and Malfoy was no closer to the 'protection' Harry had promised him. He would be resigned to hand Malfoy over to the Order and they would use dubious methods to glean information, however they deemed necessary.

As darkness flooded the room, the oil lamps automatically bathed the room in a soft light. Malfoy's head shot up at the first 'thud,' and Harry's head shot up at the second. Both waited with bated breath as the footsteps grew louder down the hallway before Hermione hesitantly appeared in the entryway.

"I'm in," she announced softly, but surely. "But after this, we're going straight to the Order, Harry." Her eyes held a challenge and he swallowed reluctantly.

"Sure. Whatever you say."

"Hold on!" Malfoy stood to his feet. "I'm not letting them tear into my head. Potter, you gave me your word …"

Harry joined Malfoy on his feet.

"And they won't." He glanced to Hermione. "If we do this right, we'll be able to vouch for you. Isn't that right?" She nodded in agreement. "There won't be a need to. I keep my word," Harry assured the blond.

Hermione joined them at the head of the table situated in the small library. "Alright, the first thing we need to do is mark each other. The bond only recognizes those who have been properly marked. I'm afraid this is where the bit of blood comes in." Malfoy's mouth twisted at the mention of 'blood'. "It shouldn't be much, unless you're afraid of blood, Malfoy," she stuck her chin out in defiance.

An eyebrow rose. "Not even a little bit, princess," he mocked scornfully as tension rose again.

Harry coughed to diffuse the situation before it started. "Right, so you were saying, Hermione?" he gestured for her to continue. He knew his best friend was not at the level of trust (if one could call it that) that he and Malfoy had established, as he tried to keep them all from falling into old routines.

With a last roll of her eyes, she faced Harry, ignoring the blond for now. "On our hands, we need to mark a rune for each of us. Once we join them, say the incantation under moonlight, the bond should be instantaneous," she explained.

"How will we know if it worked?" Draco asked.

"I haven't exactly had time to perform a trial run. How should I know?" she snipped.

"We'll just have to wait and see. Okay, so about the runes…" Harry replied, hesitant, but anxious to get started.

Hermione took out her wand and decided to start with Harry first. As gently as she could with her wand point, she cut the rune for 'power' across his palm. The spell was very specific. There were three runes, each as close to the individual's true nature as possible: one for power, one for courage, and one for wisdom. Most bonds had only been attempted with two of the runes, and most took power and wisdom for their own. She had not read of an instance where a trio used all three runes within the spell. If there had been such an undertaking, she had not read about it.

She finished carving the rune and watched as blood pooled in Harry's palm. He grimaced, but held it open, saving the blood for the ritual.

Hermione moved before Malfoy next, who slowly extended his palm to her. She thought it satisfactory that he be marked with 'courage', the very definition of her House. He had indeed left his father's house and protection. She knew that whatever punishment Voldemort had laid at his father's feet would be worse for the younger Malfoy, should he should return. It would be especially worse if they knew  _whom_  he had run to.

It was one of the reasons she had agreed to this in the first place. She could not imagine all the blond was placing aside to put his faith in a half-blood and muggle-born. It spoke volumes to her. She wondered if that was what Harry alluded to earlier.

Hermione cut deeper than intended and he winced, almost pulling his hand away entirely. She relaxed her hold on his palm. "Sorry," Hermione whispered softly, suddenly too shy to look up at him. The air between them grew heavy. She had to swallow at the unfamiliar touch of his fingers against her wrist. His touch was comparably cool against her skin.

She finished the last of his rune and watched as deep red pooled in his palm. Turning her wand point on herself, unsurprisingly, she started the rune for 'wisdom.' It hurt, as she bit her teeth against the pain, but it was nothing she could not bear. Sooner than she thought, it was over and all three held out bloody palms before them.

"The moon's coming out," Harry threw his head towards the library window where a swatch of pale moonlight entered through the old, stained window.

Silently, all three moved towards the moonlight. Hermione could feel the prickling of her magic in her bleeding hand. She held her palm in the moonlight, face up, and looked to Harry who covered her hand with his own.

As Harry's blood mixed with hers, both gave a hiss as their combined magics met and clashed. She had to swallow at its intensity. She looked to Malfoy expectantly, who then covered both of their hands with his own.

Both she and Harry groaned at the fusion of his pureblood with theirs. Centuries of old magic rushed between them. Light-headed, Hermione turned their hands upside down, so now her hand rested on top.

She felt her body pulse with their combined magics as their hearts collectively beat in time. The thunderous result resounded in the very core of her.

Very suddenly, her womb clenched in time to the joined heartbeat. Shaken, Hermione met emerald and grey eyes to see if they had felt  _that_. Her book made no mention of physical responses, but all the same, her womb fluttered in time with the pulse at her wrist. She pressed her knees together to stop the budding friction.

"Hermione," Harry's voice broke her concentration.

Her body responded to him of its own accord as she felt the overwhelming need to …  _do_  something. What, she did not know, but it weighed on her regardless.

"The spell," he grated sharply, as if he were fighting against an unseen force as well.

Hermione nodded. Closing her eyes against the heat found her in friend's eyes, the very heat that pooled between her legs, she recited the words from memory:

"One soul to bind them,

One heart, as true,

Courage, Power, Wisdom,

Brings forth life anew."

As she finished the rite, all three screwed their eyes shut against the waves of power that washed over them. All of sudden, the pressure was released and she felt the doorway within her mind thrown open. Hermione opened her eyes and gasped at the sight that greeted her.

Tiny lights of gold, it was the only way she could describe it, escaped her skin and flew around them. Similarly, green lights left Draco at the same time red lights escaped from Harry. Combined, the lights swirled about until faster and faster as they danced around the trio. Hermione found herself drawn towards Harry and Malfoy,  _her mates_ , her heart sang of its of own accord.

Her mind did not have time to process what her heart knew to be true. In a second, her eyes widened in fear as the lights grew and encompassed them all: gold, green, and red fused into a large sphere of sparkling color. It brightened the entire library until the point of blindness.

By time it faded, three occupants lay, unconscious, in a heap on the floor, their bloody hands intertwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an: I love The Legend of Zelda, so if you spotted the LoZ reference, then kudos to you. ;-)


	3. Chapter Two

Pale moonlight washed over the teens as all three groaned and slowly came back into awareness. Hermione sat up first, grabbing her head as thoughts and feelings that were not her own flooded her senses.

_Son of a bitch! s_ he heard in her mind, clear as a bell. But it was not her voice.

"Hermione, please, get up," Harry complained beneath her.

Bewildered and slightly dazed, Hermione scooted to the side, allowing Harry to roll off of Malfoy. Free from the weight, Malfoy immediately sat up and straightened his clothes.

Examining her hand, she noticed the runes, etched into delicate skin, were now outlined by a thin, red scar as if they had been magically healed. But a healing spell had not been cast. Odd.

"What the hell happened?" Malfoy ordered.

Hermione turned towards him, the recognition quick. "I heard your voice in my head. Just now," she announced to stunned silence.

The blond narrowed his eyes at her. "You're stranger than I thought." Malfoy warily stood to his feet. "And that was pretty strange."

Hermione stood as well, meeting the blond dead on. "I'm serious. Just now, as clear as day, you spoke to me."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "No, I didn't," he drawled slowly.

The lie slid off him in waves. She experimentally reached within to the bond that now connected them to the another.  _Are you sure about that, Malfoy?_  she thought. She hid a smirk as the blond reared back in shock, before a sneer replaced the surprise.

"I, uh, could use a hand here," Harry woozily called from the floor.

Automatically, two hands shot out to assist him. Malfoy sneered at the hand that moved of its own volition, staring at it, as if it had betrayed him.

Harry's hand wrapped around Hermione's smaller one and both stumbled as they made contact. Something other than protectiveness washed over her.

Harry blinked, hoping it would break the spell, but it did not.

"Do you two want to bloody shag or something?" Malfoy interrupted their thoughts. "I can feel your lust all the way over here." He made a point to not look either one in the eye. "It's unsettling," he finished.

Hermione cleared her throat and released Harry's hand. She'd never had such feelings for her friend before, but she could not forget the heat in his eyes as he called for her earlier to complete the spell.

Again, something within weighed on her to do  _something_. Biting her lip, she resolved to find out before, whatever it was, overtook them. The pull sounded like a beacon in her mind; her body ached at the loss of his touch. Puzzling. "It's just an amplifier from the bonding," she tried to convince herself and the room. "It magnifies everything. I imagine it will take a bit of getting used to, but we'll learn to control it."

"No shit, Granger. But newsflash, you can't  _amplify_  what was never there to begin with, hmm?" Malfoy stalked closer to her. That annoying itch began to gather between her legs again.

She glared at his pointed face, completely aggravated, and thought,  _I wouldn't be so quick to forget who helped you just now_!

_Used to the wonder-less duo worshiping on their knees for merely locating a spell?_ The sneer behind his words was thick, even in her mind.

_Screw you, Malfoy!_

His eyebrows lowered as he took a step forward.  _You first, sweetheart._

"Hey!" Harry stepped between them, a hand placed on their chest in warning. The rune beneath his palm glowed with the beginnings of power. "Stop it! Hermione's right. It will take some time to get used to all this, but what's done is done. We need to finish with why we started this in the first place." He looked pointedly at Malfoy.

"You mean you don't believe me?" Malfoy mocked incredulously. "Still?"

Hermione removed Harry's wrist from her chest with a sad shake of her head. "He's telling the truth, Harry. We don't need to ask," she replied, ruefully. She had probed Malfoy's mind the first moment she could. Immediately, she knew he was telling the truth. He was scared of Voldemort, fearful for his family, and wanted nothing to do with his followers. So, if Malfoy was truly sincere about his desertion, she figured the right thing to do would be to help him.

"Disappointed, Granger?"

Her smirk matched his own. "More like surprised. Who knew the snake had a moral compass?"

Anger coursed through them all as Malfoy snatched Hermione's forearm quicker than anyone could see. The oil lamps above them flickered at the release of power.

Malfoy snarled out loud, and telepathically within their minds. "Hear me, and fucking hear me well, Granger. Do not  _ever_  question my intention. If I wanted to give your lot up, I would have done so by now."

The rune pressed into her arm grew hot, but strangely it did not hurt her. The icy-hot sensation shivered up her arm and down to her belly. She struggled against his grasp. "Let me go," she whispered, her body betraying her. Repulsion and arousal warred within her body at his cruel tone. She pulled out of his grasp and stared at the two young men.

One, she had known since she was eleven. Faster than either could imagine, lust now simmered between them; this bond just amplified what was already there. Malfoy was right.

The other young man, though, she did not know. But thanks to their bond, she could feel his anger pulsing in waves. The anger melded with her own, to the point where she didn't know where hers ended and his began. Even more disturbing, it did strange things to her body. Things she did not understand.

Hermione stepped away from the pair, as if physical space would ease the confusion throbbing in her mind. With a final glance over her shoulder, she set off for her room.

It was done. She did want Harry wanted her to do. He could trust Malfoy fully now. Unfortunately for her, she lingered between two, bewildered and overcome with strange, new feelings.

She quickly changed into her pajamas and dove into her bed, praying sleep would come quickly. Too much had happened that she just wanted to forget.

* * *

A gentle breeze brushed over her face, leaving Hermione to wonder if someone had opened her bedroom window during the night.

"Why, you are  _quite_ young," a melodic voice teased in distance.

Hermione's eyes snapped open in awareness.

Hermione did not normally have lucid dreams. Every now and then, her current state of affairs would manifest in her dreams, like during exams for example, when she found herself holding a conversation with an actual quill and essay.

This, however, was not one of those moments.

She last remembered falling asleep on her bed at Grimmauld Place, but now, she had been transported to a place far away. She wiggled her toes in soft grass that was now her bed. Looking around, she sought the disembodied voice. Slowly, she lifted to a sitting position, noting she was in an empty grass field, bathed in warm moonlight. The over-sized moon hung low in the sky above.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked as she pushed to stand on bare feet.

A woman, dressed in a nude slip that reminded her of ancient Roman times, suddenly materialized before her. Sharp yellow eyes informed her that this woman had been touched by the supernatural. Her ebony curls tossed freely in the breeze. "You successfully cast the  _ame de loups?_  You invoked the runes and performed the spell, did you not?" the ageless woman asked. Though, youthful in appearance, the woman carried the weight of someone who had lived much longer than her perceived twenty or thirty years. The woman waited for Hermione to respond, though the teen suspected she already knew the answer.

Guardedly, Hermione replied, "...Yes."

Supernatural eyes narrowed in skepticism. "The last successful attempt of such a bond was performed by a werewolf much older than you, and yet … here you are, little wolf."

Hermione looked to her left and her right. Endless fields of grass surrounded her. "And where is here?" she tentatively asked, aching for her wand, though it probably remained in her bedroom at Grimmauld Place.

The woman gave a barely-there smile, as if correcting a child. "Are you sure that is the question you want to ask?"

Agitation grew with the woman's opaque answers, as Hermione pressed, "Who are you?"

The woman crossed her arms as circled the younger witch, effectively sizing her up. "I think the more appropriate question is, 'who are you?'"

Choosing to look straightforward and not track the woman's movements, Hermione tried to temper her impatience. "Why do you call me 'little wolf'? I'm not a werewolf."

"Sharp, cunning, high-spirited. You are not a werewolf, true, but you possess the prominent features of my kind."

"Your kind? You're a werewolf?"

"It is  **not** a name I respond to!" The woman visibly grew agitated as she settled within an arm's distance. Heat radiated from the woman's bare skin. "Your kind has always sought to pervert my children's nature with your tales of fear and death. But your 'reality' could not be further from the truth." The beginning of a pointed growl followed her declaration. "It is puzzling that one, such as yourself, could achieve what my own blood could not. Yet, what's done is done."

"You're the mother of werewolves," Hermione deduced in awe as the woman finished. "I've read about you in my Defense class."

"And?"

"History could never pinpoint the origin of the Lycanthropic strain as it's known today. Some say a witch mated with a wolf and birthed the first werewolf." At this assertion, the woman lifted a haughty brow. "Others say she poisoned her lover as revenge, dooming him to walk as a wolf every full moon, and infect the ones he loved for all eternity."

At this the woman, laughed outright. "I give you less credit than is due, little wolf. Hmm. I can see why you possess the Rune of Wisdom, but there is more to your tale." The woman turned and sauntered leisurely to nowhere. After two steps, Hermione realized she was meant to follow, and took off to trot after the woman.

The woman's hands ran lightly through the long grass as her voice trailed in memory. "You are not kin, and as such, are not privy to our true origin." Here, the woman looked at Hermione with pride. "But … I am what you say. The 'mother of werewolves' is but one of my many titles. What is left of my mortal body now lives in the world between worlds. My children, or werewolves as you call them, are descendants of a triad that consisted between myself and two lovers: a wizard and what you call a squib. Centuries later, my children seek to recreate this elusive bond, binding three to one another, in hopes to be like their mother before them. Many have tried, but only three have ever succeeded. My bond with my sweet Dominic and Lycaon was the first. A triad on the old continent, two centuries ago, was the second. And now, you, little wolf have performed the third."

Hermione did not know what to say to that. She remained quiet as she absorbed the information.

"Do you know why only three have succeeded where the others have failed?" the woman posited to the younger witch beside her.

Hermione shook her head.

"Because a woman did not perform it," she said simply. She cocked her head to the side as if just remembering something. "Though, I am remiss. One must be a woman, yes, but she must be a powerful one. The  _ame de loups_  is not for the weak." The woman reached down to take Hermione's hand. With a nail, she traced the still-raw Rune of Wisdom. Hermione winced as a pin-prick of blood bubbled from the still-healing wound. The woman turned her own hand over, so that the faded, but clear, Rune of Power was visible. "Curious, you did not mark yourself with the Rune of Power?" she murmured.

Slowly, Hermione pulled her hand back and massaged the sore flesh. "I believed wisdom to be better suited to me."

"Yes, I can see that. Still, it is curious." They continued their walk in silence for a few beats more. "Tell me, little wolf, do you know what happens now?"

"The books I found on the matter didn't speak on what happens next."

The woman smirked, a dark gleam in yellow eyes. "My dear little wolf …" Again, she remarked as a parent would remind their child. "Why next, is the fun part," she laughed low in her throat.

There was no time to question further, for next, Hermione was falling. She sank through the grassy plain, braced herself against the freewheeling sensation, and the resulting crash that would surely follow. To her surprise, however, she carefully landed in a lap of muscle. Two strong hands secured about her waist and pulled her back, preventing escape.

Was she still dreaming?

Perspiration mingled between the heated bodies as she comfortably settled her head against a shoulder.

The double scent of peppermint and chocolate invaded her nose. The smell was familiar, like home.

The hands that secured her waist trailed upward, just enough to tease, to her exposed breasts. When had that happened, she wondered lazily? But there was no time to think on that as a new sensation drew her attention.

A tongue, languid, yet firm, pressed its way across her shoulder blade, leaving fire in its wake.

Simultaneously, fingers brushed lightly over her breasts. The twin sensations caused her nipples to pebble in heightened response. She sighed and buried her nose into the shoulder she rested upon: too shy to vocalize what she wanted next.

"I think she wants more," a voice teasingly called from behind.

"Then, we should oblige her," another answered.

Through innocent eyes, she watched a mouth eagerly suck on the man's fingers above her. She ached for the same attention to be paid to her, but dared not to say the words. Instead she watched, fascinated, as the mouth mouth worked diligently over each digit. Once satisfactory attention had been paid, the hand lowered to cup her breast.

The gasp of pleasure was instantaneous. Her hands tried to reach for a mouth to kiss, or anything, but her arms were bound. She could not move as the man with the glorious tongue kissed a sweet trail down her stomach.

_Yes,_ she begged,  _please …_  though, still, she did not know what she begged for.

A chuckle, and then a warm voice tickled her ear. "Don't worry. Draco will take care of you," the voice promised.

The dreamy veil removed, Hermione stared down her stomach as Malfoy pushed her legs embarrassingly apart, granted him a liberal view of her soaked center. Her breath rattled in her chest as Malfoy lowered his head to sample her juices. The response was immediate. Her back arched in response as she pushed closer to his mouth. Her innocence rapidly dissipated under Malfoy's expert ministrations.

"Look, Hermione," Harry whispered from behind as he continued to caress her breasts. He twisted and rolled her nipples to the cusp of pain. "See how wet you are for him. For  _us_." Harry licked the outer shell of her ear as Malfoy dove back in to lap at her insides.

Her knees wobbled. She longed to run her hands through something, but remained frozen, as Malfoy continued his sweet assault.

Her breath grew ragged in anticipation.

How did Harry know to suck on her neck the same time Malfoy sucked her clit into his mouth?

How did his hands know to pinch her nipples ever so slightly, as Malfoy inserted two fingers to stretch her unused walls?

Unable to stem the wave that was about to crest, she clamped around Malfoy's fingers as his tongue furiously worked over her clit. Above her, Harry urged her to let go. Whimpering, she looked up as Harry's mouth sought hers. He swallowed her shout as she came harder than she ever had before.

Just then, her body chose to wake her from her most vivid dream. The vestiges of her orgasm pulsed and fluttered in her lower half as she lay, alone in her bed. The ache that radiated from her womb slowly receded.

After it lessened, Hermione rolled over, her hands flexing and stretching. They itched to do something and again, a pull weighed on her mind to the point of pain.

Sitting up, Hermione made the hasty decision to throw the heated duvet off of her. Quickly, she tip-toed down the hall; her destination, the kitchen to find something that would soothe her frayed nerves. Her pajamas bottoms were uncomfortably damp, as flashes of Harry's hands on her chest and Malfoy's mouth on her center muddled her brain. Looking up from her zombie-like trance, she caught Malfoy as he exited his bedroom, his hair sticking up in every direction.

Malfoy looked like he'd been running, he was breathing so hard. He painstakingly appraised her, from head to toe, as she took in his flushed state. Her eyes stayed beyond the point of propriety on his bare chest.

Again, her hand itched to do something as she balled it into a fist. She could have sworn she heard the woman's laughter ringing in her head.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked from behind her.

Hermione spun away from Malfoy's bare chest as Harry joined them in tight hallway. He, equally, looked a mess and refused to meet her eye.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes," Hermione responded slowly. It was only a dream? They could not see any of it, right? She worried her lip at the thought of the two young men privy to her basest desires. Harry's gaze dropped to her lip. "I couldn't sleep," she explained. "I thought a glass of water would help," she finished, looking between the two.

"What did you dream about?" Malfoy rasped.  _And don't lie, Granger,_ Malfoy sneered in her mind.

They would know the instant she opened her mouth and all at once, she felt trapped. Malfoy's chest heaved in anticipation of her response. Watching his lips part, she remembered those same lips buried between her thighs. A quick spasm gripped her womb.

Harry moaned behind her.

Making up her mind, Hermione sharply clipped, "Nothing. It was nothing."

Malfoy's mouth fell into a deep frown. He was about to call her on her bullshit before the wards alerted them to a visitor.

"Someone's downstairs," Harry informed them both.

"Who?" Hermione asked, grateful for the distraction.

He looked at Malfoy meaningfully. "The Order. They're here."


	4. Chapter Three

As Harry went to greet the Order, he instructed Hermione to wait with Malfoy. He would inform them when to come downstairs. So, the two sat in a dark hallway, in uncomfortable silence, while loud greetings commenced on the lower levels.

"So, how long, Granger?" Malfoy asked after a moment.

They sat on opposite sides of the wall, facing the other. It was hard to escape his presence or his question. "What are you talking about?" Hermione tried for ignorance.

"Oh, come off it," he scoffed. "Ignorance doesn't suit you. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Hermione pulled her knees close to her chest. She wanted explanations herself, but doubted she would get them from a late night hallway conversation with Draco Malfoy. "It was just a dream, Malfoy. Leave it be."

"A dream I did not want, but could feel every inch of," he admitted quietly.

Hermione lifted wide, startled eyes to his waiting greys. Her mouth fell open in shock. "You can't be serious?!" she exclaimed, horrified.

"Very much so. Although, I have to admit, I never knew you were into hard kink." His smirk grew deeper and she groaned to herself. "Been holding back, have we?"

She dropped her head into her knees to avoid his lewd gaze, wanting the very floor to swallow her whole. "It was  _just_  a dream." Her voice was muffled behind her knees. "God, like you've never … I can't believe I'm even  _speaking_  about this with you!" She made to stand from the floor and faltered for some semblance of control. "Just … just keep to your own mind and it won't happen again."

Malfoy stood with her. She mentally scolded herself for staring at his chest again. He really needed to put on a shirt. "Kind of hard to do that when you pulled us in, princess." He continued at her lack of response, "It wasn't like I wanted to jump into your brain. Merlin knows what goes on in there, but I couldn't help it. I was asleep one moment, and the next, I was there. Potter too, it seems." He regarded her softly.

Despite the bloom of heat spreading across her neck, the gears of her brain turned, processing this newest development. "You said, 'you couldn't help it'?'" When he confirmed with a nod, she spoke to herself, "I'm positive it has something to do with the bond. Our mental connection is wide open apparently. We need to find a way to sustain our mental barriers." She hesitated sharing about the woman and the earlier part of her dream, but then stopped as a sudden presence engulfed her personal space.

"I didn't hear any complaints from you earlier," Malfoy whispered above her hairline. He leaned down to meet her eye-to-eye and forced her against the wall. One hand placed on either side of her head kept her effectively trapped. "In fact, I seem to recall you begging me." His lips ghosted over her nose before they grew into a confident smirk.

Hermione tried to think of an adequate reply. "It was just a subconscious representation of our bond. Once we learn how to control it, it should no longer pose a problem. You'll be free of my dreams," she whispered and prayed her voice projected strength.

"What if I don't  _want_  to block it?" Malfoy asked slowly, his eyes intense on hers.

She was dumbstruck. "What?"

A hand lifted from the wall close to her head, and slowly, a finger traced down her cheek. Why couldn't she move to dislodge him? His finger continued on a path down her neck, the same way Harry had moved against her neck in her dream. She struggled to keep her eyes from closing.

"Something about having this much control … the ability to  _feel_ what this does without having to ask …" Malfoy's finger stopped just above her left breast and her eyes opened again. If she moved her head slightly, she was sure their lips would touch. "It's intoxicating," he said on a breath. He suddenly backed away from her and cool air replaced his warmth. If the wall was not holding her up, she would have fell when he moved.

Hermione closed her eyes to block the effect of his words. His bloody finger was wreaking havoc on her body. She knew he could feel her heartbeat escalating, her breath quickening, and her knees shaking in anticipation. They needed to speak with Harry and get this under control now!

Just as she was about to strike back on the importance of personal space, both felt Harry's call to come downstairs. It pulled on the back of her mind like a soft caress she could not deny. She looked towards Malfoy, who eyed her expectantly, and steeled her voice. "Ready?"

"As ever," he replied evenly, as both took the staircase towards the kitchen.

She tried to put their little conversation behind her, but it was difficult to ignore his presence now. His words haunted her.

When they reached the kitchen, she walked in first and gestured for Malfoy to follow. The room took a collective breath; no one dared to speak first. They all stared at Malfoy. Hermione felt the oddest sensation to stand protectively in front of him.

Her body was betraying her too much of late.

"Harry's told us you've come to us for protection," Arthur Weasley spoke when no else made a move to. His own family glared at the Malfoy heir with a mixture of contempt, curiosity, and hatred; none more so than the youngest son.

"Correct," Malfoy spoke solidly to the room. Closing his fist over his rune, Malfoy recounted his reasons for doing so. As he finished, Harry moved to silently to stand beside him.

A wave of something she could not describe washed over her as the two former childhood nemeses stood side-by-side. Hermione shifted on her feet at the disconcerting feeling that accompanied it.

"He's telling the truth and we ..." Harry looked to Hermione, who slowly nodded, before turning to the small group and finishing, "... believe him. I gave him my word that we'll protect him," he stated resolutely.

Ron, who had been visibly reddening at the scene unfolding, stood then, his limit reached. "Do you actually believe a word he's saying?! He's obviously lying, Harry!" The redhead locked eyes with Malfoy. "He only wants in so he can report back to Daddy our operations!"

Hermione moved to join Harry and Malfoy. "I can assure you, he's not," she spoke to room. "I believe him and think we should give him a chance. It's not the first time someone's left Voldemort for our side," she dared Ron to respond as she rolled her shoulders in irritation. Where was this protective drive coming from? And why was she feeling it for Malfoy? The beginnings of anger pricked along her skin as Ron's mouth fell into a frown.

"Are you both daft? His dad is a  _Death Eater_  and we're honestly just going to take him in? No questions asked?" A few heads nodded in agreement with Ron.

Hermione looked desperately to Harry for guidance as the room began talking among themselves; doubt lingered in the air.

"What do you want from me? To take a test?" Malfoy sneered as the voices in opposition grew. His hands curled into fists as the room spoke ill of his family name, questioned his loyalty, and doubted his initial plea for protection.

"Legilimency," Ron responded coolly.

"Fuck, no," Malfoy snarled as Ron rushed to meet him head-on.

Ron cocked his head to the side. "Scared, Malfoy? Daddy didn't teach you any of his dark arts before he left for Azkaban, huh?"

Malfoy responded with a heated fist to Ron's jaw. Ron staggered before rushing at him full throttle. Malfoy, luckily, dodged the first swing, but Ron landed squarely with the second. The two collapsed to the ground, under Ron's weight, as they struggled against the other.

Harry's arms wrapped around Ron's torso, and with a heave, pulled the fuming redhead off of Malfoy. "See," Ron spat at Draco, who was just getting to his knees. "Nothing's changed. Just because you've fallen for his shit, doesn't mean I have."

"That's enough, Ron!" Harry pushed his best friend against the wall. "I've made my decision. What you choose to believe or not, is entirely up to you."

The anger and betrayal that rested in Ron's eyes almost made Harry pause.

Away from the melee, Hermione worked her jaw over as pained gripped her chin. She had not been hit, but felt the pain all the same. Her anger increased sharply, and she had to stop the growl that nearly escaped her mouth.

Remus Lupin, who watched the exchange between his former students with a detailed eye, chose to spoke then. "We'll have to go to Dumbledore of course, but I think we can use this to our advantage." The tension in the room lessened at his words. "If Mr. Malfoy is willing, we can use this rather fortunate change of events for our stead."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. She rubbed gingerly at her jaw and winced at the sting that followed it.

"He means for me to spy," Malfoy answered for their former professor.

Lupin nodded in agreement.

"Spy for the Order?" Harry clarified.

Lupin nodded again. "We all have our part to play and if Mr. Malfoy truly wishes to assist our side, it is a request he cannot afford to deny. Dumbledore willing, of course."

Hermione and Harry were about to speak out in opposition when Malfoy spoke through their link,  _I'll do it._

Hermione looked sharply at him.  _You can't! You don't even know how to spy._

Both could hear the mental shrug.  _How hard can it be?_

Harry was less than thrilled.  _How are we supposed to protect you if you go back to_ _ **him?**_

 _That's your problem to figure out. If this is what it takes, then so be it_. With one last look to Harry and Hermione, Malfoy turned to the waiting room. He noticed Lupin eyeing the three of them curiously, before answering, "Done."

The kitchen burst into activity. Tonks went to inform Dumbledore. Molly and Ginny moved to help Ron, who shot glares at Harry and Malfoy, while Lupin and Moody came forth to speak with their newest Phoenix recruit.

Hermione watched the room jump into action before her eyes. She did not notice Harry, until he pulled her quietly into the hallway.

"Are you alright?" He indicated to her sore jaw.

She gave him a small smile in return. "I can ask you the same."

"Ron sure can throw a punch, huh?" he spoke grimly.

"Harry, you know if he goes back to him anything could happen right? Right?" she prodded when he did not answer.

Harry sighed and leaned against the wall. Closing his eyes briefly, he lamented, "What was I supposed to say? Don't do it? It would only give them more reason not to trust him. We'll just have to figure out a way to keep him safe," he gave a lopsided smile. "We kind of have to now."

"Clearly Ron doesn't want to take in any part of that protection." She thought back to the anger that poured from her best friend. She knew he did not hold the blond in high regard. Merlin, it was going to be impossible to work with him in the coming year  _and_ keep Malfoy safe if all those two ever did was fight. But it had to be done. Their bond insured that it would.

Though, that brought forward another matter, entirely.

"Harry, we need to talk about what's happening to us," she wrapped her arms around herself remembering her talk with 'the mother of werewolves'. " _Now_ ," she emphasized.

He grimaced and nodded. "Right. We will. All three of us. Maybe tomorrow, after everything's died down, yeah?"

Hermione nodded softly and studied him. She always knew her friend carried a weight like no other. She longed to carry it alongside him and if this bond allowed them to share that load, she was grateful for that at least. Reading him now, Hermione almost drowned under his worry for the coming year, his apprehension of letting Malfoy return back to Voldemort, and his indecision with what to do with Ron. It was certainly a lot and she did the only thing she felt she could. Reaching out, she tentatively grabbed a hold of his hand.

She felt warmth, instantaneous and true, spread from him to her and she basked in it. Harry drew her in for a hug. In one moment, she smiled at the whiff of peppermint and chocolate before being thrown back into her earlier dream. Harry's grip tightened about her waist.

"Harry, what's happening?" she murmured against his neck, sinking further into his lust that enveloped her like a warm blanket.

"I'm not sure," he replied, pulling her closer to him.

Her mind screamed that this was moving too fast and that she should not be doing this. Ginny had confessed her crush on Harry earlier this summer and while initial jealousy had taken hold, Hermione had expressed her true happiness for the girl.

"But I don't want it to stop," Harry continued as his finger lifted her chin.

Before their lips could meet, a loud bang erupted from the kitchen. The two broke apart just as Ron entered the hallway. He took a moment to glower at both of them before marching up the stairs to his room.

Hermione stepped back as Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose. He sighed, "I guess I'd better talk to him."

Hermione nodded, feeling oddly denied. "Good night, Harry." However, this was not the time for physical reactions to the bond; not when there was so much work to be done. Suddenly, she had a pressing need to learn more about the 'mother of werewolves,' and headed for the one place she could when her mind was troubled or worried.

The Black family library was about to have a late-night visitor.

* * *

Hours later, Draco would have killed for a bottle of Odgen's Finest. But all he could find was pumpkin juice in the blasted kitchen. Still nursing his aching jaw, he made his way quietly to the room he was forced to share with Potter and the Weasel. The arrival of the Order had decreased the number of available rooms, and Draco had been forced to share lodging with the very two he did not wish to see at the moment.

He would have very much preferred to share a room with Granger than with them. Did they not see the huge row that had ruptured between Weasel and he only a few hours ago? Were they hoping for a repeat?

At least with Granger, he could pass the time teasing her about her sexual fantasies. Draco could not believe the amount of sexual frustration Gryffindor's princess carried around. He imagined Potter would have made short work of that a long time ago; he knew he would have. She had almost come undone at his touch earlier; she was a literal bomb waiting to explode. At first, it was amusing to watch the two of them try to deny what was obviously there. And it was not just from her end, but Potter's as well, he surmised.

Bloody goody two-shoes, the both of them.

Removing all but his pants, Draco settled into his bed and hoped his now-snoring roommates would not wake until morning. But unfortunately for him, sleep would not come that night. He tossed and turned as the  _ame de loups_  roared to life.

His dream started with a slight touch down the back of his neck. He wasn't sure he really felt it until it happened a second time. His eyes fluttered, but remained closed, as the wispy touch faded in and out. First, by his neck, then again further down his torso. It smoothed past a hardened nipple before the barely-there touch disappeared again. He squirmed as the touch reappeared at his side; his stomach flinched at the unfamiliar contact. Expecting another teasing touch, he bit back shock at the fierce grip that enveloped his now-hardening cock. What the hell?

He gurgled his delight as a warm hand caressed him until he was primed and ready. It had been almost a year since he had the pleasure of a female's company. Even though this was not real, Draco sighed and relished in the very pleasurable dream his mind afforded him.

The hand released him and he moaned at the loss of contact. Already aroused, he settled in to finish the job himself. But before his hands could get there, a warm mouth kissed the tip of his straining cock. Draco fell against the bed, his mouth slack in need.

The mouth ever-so-slowly moved over his tip. His hips instinctively bounced up, trying to bury deeper in the warm cavern, but the mouth denied him access. Frustrated at the slow tease, Draco moved to steady the head and earnestly fuck the mouth of one ... Harry Potter.

Draco sat frozen on his bed as he stared into the green eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived. In his shock, he forgot the need to pummel into teasing mouth. But as if reading his need, Draco watched as Potter slowly took all of his cock in his mouth hesitantly, but surely.

Maybe it was the sight of seeing his shaft, aroused to the point of near pain, disappearing into Potter's awaiting mouth. Or maybe it was the fact that his emeralds remained fastened to his eyes the entire time he did it. Maybe Draco was that truly fucked in the head, but he could not help the moan that escaped his throat at the exquisite sensation.

Dream Potter took the cue for what it was and aggressively began to work him over.

Perhaps, Draco could stand a little deviancy, if only for a few short moments. Besides it was only a dream. And after a tension-filled evening, Draco was in desperate need of a release and Harry's warm mouth was ever eager to oblige. It would remain in the dark recesses of his mind, he firmly decided.

Draco felt the tip of his shaft run against the soft flesh of Potter's throat. The tightening in his balls told him that this dream was about to be over. He held his gaze on Potter's now flushed face and he dared the his rival to move.

Draco shuddered as a hand grasped his shoulder. Soft curls caressed his back and without looking, Draco knew Hermione Granger had just joined this most atypical dream. "Draco," she whispered, a dark quality about her voice.

"Fuck," Draco swore sharply and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to starve off the fast approaching orgasm her voice, alone, nearly brought.

"Why do you fight it?" Granger whispered into his ear, as if she were holding back a laugh. "Harry's waiting. I'm waiting. What are you waiting for?"

His hands fisted in his sheets as his Rune began to glow with his exertion. He would not come in Potter's mouth. Even Granger would be a more acceptable choice. Just because it felt divine did not mean...

"You want it," minx-Granger spoke into his ear, interrupting his thoughts. He waited for the angel on the other side of his shoulder to appear and dispute her words, but there was none. There was just Granger, goading him to come in Potter's waiting throat, and the thick tongue coaxing his seed out of his body.

"Do not deny what your body knows to be true. Let go," Granger whispered against his ear. She ran a light hand through his hair in encouragement. The action, coupled with a flick of Potter's tongue, sent him over the edge.

Draco fell against the pillow, sweat lining his brow, as Potter swallowed the spurts of come. He stared through lowered lids as Granger hovered above him. She gave a brilliant smile before fading from the room.

Draco swallowed audibly and sat up. Now fully awake, he ripped the covers from his bed, but did not find Potter waiting beneath. He could not deny the minute flicker of disappointment that accompanied the action. Moving quickly to clean his ruined pants, he froze as he came face-to-face with the object of his dreams, also awake, in his bed across the room.

They stared at each other in silence, the only sound coming from Weasley's bed. Draco sneered lowly, "Stay out of my head, Potter!" Draco struggled against the rough nature of his voice. No matter how pleasurable the release was, he fought valiantly against the residual feeling left in its wake.

"Only if you stay out of mine," Potter quietly offered.

Heavy moments passed and both did not move. Only when Weasley made a sound in his slumber and turned over, were they able to break the spell.

"I have to get to get out of here." Hurriedly, Draco pulled a shirt over his head and left the bedroom.

Harry stared at his hands, the same hands that had caressed Malfoy's cock. He could still feel the pale organ, taut and smooth, riding against his throat. Even though he did not dream it, he had been pulled in all the same. Malfoy had called him into his dream and he felt every last detail of it.

Dropping his head into his hands, Harry closed his eyes on a sigh. The worse thing of all was that he  _wanted_  to do it. He had enjoyed every moment of it, as evidenced by his body's own orgasm that now stained his bed sheets. He could feel Malfoy's anger simmering on the lower level of the house, as the blond furiously paced out his frustration.

Harry could also sense Hermione, twisting and turning, in the bedroom above them, obviously trying to answer their call. But the call to what?

She was right. They all needed to talk about this, and soon.

Harry dropped onto his bed and pulled the covers for pretense, though he knew there was no more sleep to be had this night. His mind reeled over feelings and tastes that were not his own, but somehow familiar.

The  _ame de loups_ was awakening.


	5. Chapter Four

Harry was certain Hermione waited for him just ahead. But without his glasses, he could not be sure as he traversed through an empty grass field. Squinting, he approached the brunette waiting in the distance. "Hermione?" he called as he approached her back, though, he wondered when Hermione had ever worn a nude slip of dress.

"I am not the one you seek," a melodic voice answered.

Harry started in alarm, a bit embarrassed. Normally, his eyesight wasn't this poor while he dreamt, but strangely, this dream was more life-like than any other.

"Oh, sorry." He moved to face the woman who bore a striking resemblance to his friend. "I thought you were …"

"I know who you thought I was." The woman teased, as if privy to a secret.

Even more confused, Harry studied the woman. She was beautiful, yet as alluring as the sailor was to the siren. Her bright yellow eyes, a shade not normally seen among humans, sparkled with a hint of danger that put Harry on guard.

"You remind me of my Lycaon," the woman murmured, wistfully, as she reached forward to cup his cheek.

On alert, Harry leaned away from her touch. Instead of being offended at the denial, the woman smirked, oddly pleased. "You are loyal, just as he was. Good. She will need a strong protector."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your 'Hermione'." The woman then exposed her palm, where the faded Rune of Power rested. "The Rune of Power traditionally goes to the one whom casted the  _ame de loups,_  but curiously, your 'Hermione' did not take it." The stiff disappointment was clear. "As such, their protection now falls to you."

"I don't understand."

The woman nodded at this. "You will in time. It is a lot to place on one so young, but what's done is done. In the meantime, you must convince her to complete the riutal."

"But Hermione cast the spell. Isn't it complete?"

The woman shook her head as she regarded him. "It is like talking to a child!"

Harry frowned at that.

The woman laughed before clarifying, "True, your 'Hermione' cast the spell and invoked the Runes, but she has only awakened the ancient bond. Its true purpose, however, has yet to be fulfilled."

A dark feeling settled in his gut. "And what is its true purpose?"

The woman gave a barely-there smile. "I think you have an inkling. Surely, you've felt the call of your mates by now. It cannot be ignored."

Harry gulped. "Mates? But we can't …"

"The magic behind the Runes of Power, Wisdom, and Courage do not willingly lend themselves to the caster just because one wishes it so," the woman snapped, suddenly impatient with him. Harry, wisely, let her continue uninterrupted. "Yes, each recipient must be suited to its inherent trait, but there is more. For the Runes to work as intended, all three recipients must complement the other. Wisdom keeps Power from absolute corruption. Courage amplifies Wisdom to take a stand, and Power emboldens Courage into action. The three provide perfect balance. However, such balance cannot be achieved until the rite has been completed, and the true purpose of the  _ame de loups_  is fulfilled. Until then, you and your mates will struggle in equilibrium, both in life and in dreams." The woman pierced him with a knowing look as the last of her words faded into silence. "Do not look so pale. From your earlier dreams, I am sure you will find the experience most … pleasurable."

Harry narrowed his eyes after her speech. "I'm sorry, but you didn't answer the question. What is the true purpose of the  _ame de loups_?"

The woman stepped aside as Hermione and Malfoy suddenly materialized into view. "Why to mate, little wolf." Malfoy, looked around perplexed, while Hermione, stood confident, not at all surprised with her surroundings.

"Potter, I thought I told you to stay out of my head!" Malfoy growled, once he had gained his bearings.

Before Harry could respond, Hermione directed a pointed question to the woman, "Why have you brought us here?"

Harry levelled his shock at Hermione. "You've been here before?"

The woman bit her bottom lip to hold back a laugh. "My, my, little wolves. Seems you have much to discuss. Farewell ... for now." The woman disappeared into the night, leaving the three alone in dreamscape.

"Why can't the two of you keep to your own mind?" Malfoy accused.

Hermione huffed, annoyed, "Have you noticed, Malfoy, that no one requested your presence in our subconscious, nor ours in yours?"

"So none of this is real?" the blond queried, looking about the endless field of green.

"Does it matter?" Hermione answered with a question. "Perception is what's true to one's senses. If we can see, hear, and feel it, then isn't that sufficient to qualify as reality?"

"Been reading Trelawney's tea leaves, have we? And here I thought you despised Divination, princess."

"That's beside the point, Malfoy," Harry sighed, wearily rubbing his nose. "These dreams…" Here, he blushed fiercely and glanced at bare feet. "… they were real, weren't they?"

Hermione blushed, too, choosing to look away from her friend. Even Malfoy was silent after the question.

Harry scratched his neck in the ensuing silence. "That woman said earlier we hadn't fulfilled the true purpose of the  _ame de loups_. Those dreams, I think they had something to do with that."

"What else did she say?" Hermione pressed, eager for more information.

"Something about balancing the other, or we'll be out of sync until we do." Harry knew the quick synopsis wasn't as detailed, but to his defense, he had been taken aback at the time.

"She's the mother of werewolves," Hermione offered to the wizards. She sat in the plush grass, everything rushing forth as she recapped her first encounter with the elusive woman. "She, and two others, were the first to cast the  _ame de loups_. It's a bond among werewolves, apparently, and she was perplexed how we managed to cast the spell, seeing as we are not werewolves."

Harry supplemented Hermione's explanation. "She told me the magic of the Runes are best suited to the one's character, but in order for them to work as intended, the holders must complement the other. Or … I could have that backwards. I dunno, it's been a week."

Hermione looked between Harry and Malfoy as realization set in. "So we … complement each other?"

Harry swallowed nervously as the remnants of his dream with Malfoy rushed back to the forefront. Or was it Malfoy's dream? Harry wasn't sure anymore. "Yeah … something like that."

Across the grassy plain, however, Malfoy glowered in rage as the dream came abruptly to an end.

Harry awoke sharply, suddenly aware of the warm bed beneath him. His equilibrium lost, he tumbled from the bed and hit the wooden floor with a resounding 'thud'. Ron jumped awake at the sound.

Squinting at the stream of daylight that threaded through the curtains, Harry reached for his glasses on the nightstand. Once adjusted, he noticed Ron staring at him quizzically from his bed. Malfoy's bed was unmade and empty; he did not return last night.

Pulling from the floor, Harry quickly assured Ron that he was fine and left the room. As he left, the red-head shrugged and fell asleep. It was much too early for anyone to be awake.

Harry tiptoed through the large house, painfully aware that his Godfather's home was full of sleeping Order members. Making his way downstairs, he slowed as he entered the parlor room, not at all surprised to find Malfoy sitting on a couch. From his red, bleary eyes, Harry gathered the blond wizard didn't have much luck falling asleep last night.

"What the  _fuck_  is going on, Potter?" he growled lowly.

Harry wearily dropped on the sofa across from him. "I think you know. Or have an idea," he offered simply.

But Malfoy's anger would not be contained. "This is  _not_  what I signed up for!" He made to stand from the small couch.

"Yeah, well neither did I. But I can't undo it. What's done is done, Malfoy." Harry dug his hands into plush cushions as the woman's words came back to haunt him.

"Well, fucking get Granger to fix it!" Malfoy nearly screeched. "I'm not returning back to Hogwarts with wet dreams of the 'Chosen One' sucking me off!" As he voiced the words aloud, Malfoy's neck reddened.

Harry averted his gaze, as a blush crawled up his neck. "It will only get worse," he spoke to the air. After a moment, he lifted his gaze to Malfoy, who stood, fuming. "I think you know that. We -we can't control it, but there may be a way to lessen the pull. Or at least make it more manageable."

"Yeah, and what is that?" Malfoy sneered. He dropped onto the couch, angry, but attentive to what he had to say.

"We have to complete the ritual," a new voice spoke from the entryway. Both turned to see Hermione enter; her vibrant curls were disheveled and she looked tired as she studied her hands. "After the Order arrived, I went back to the library." She looked pointedly at Malfoy. "Nothing can undo the spell."

"It's especially harder to break between mates," Harry spoke to the room. A moment of silence followed as the words sink in.

"What. The fuck. Potter?!" Malfoy was on his feet again, marching towards Harry. "I came to you for help, not a fucking life partner."

Harry rose, too, and pointed a finger at himself. "Like I knew this would happen?! I'm just as confused and scared as you are!" He met the blond head-on.

"Who's fucking  _scared_?" Malfoy growled into Harry's face.

"Be quiet, both of you! The Order is upstairs," Hermione admonished through her teeth. As soon as her hand grabbed his and Malfoy's, all three visibly jumped from the intensity.

Heightened emotions and confusion swam through the teens. Hermione released a shaky breath as flashes of her earlier dream invaded them once more. "I have to complete the ritual, Malfoy, or this will only get worse," she finished. "So whatever you're holding onto, you need to let it go!"

"That's easy for you to say!" Though, surprisingly, Malfoy did not pull away from her grip. "You  _want_ to shag Potter's brains out. I don't!"

Harry sighed, exasperated. "It's not about  _shagging_ anyone's brains out, Malfoy! It's the pull of the  _ame de loups_. And if we don't do something about it, it will only get worse. Unless you want to wake up like this around your roommates every day?"

Draco paled at the mention of his House mates, and took a moment before answering, "Fine. What do we have to do?"

Harry could not answer under the intensity of Draco's gaze. Vestiges of their last dream still haunted him.

"Harry, the woman told you, didn't she?" Hermione asked quietly beside him, though it was not enough to break the spell. He turned bright green eyes to her, and slowly nodded his head.

"Will someone please clue me in?" Frustration seeped in between the words.

Harry closed his eyes as the pull roared to life within. He was never one to think before he acted; that was more of Hermione's disposition. Throwing caution to the wind, he rushed out, "It's kind of hard to say it," before pulling Malfoy's head down to his.

The kiss was hard, and unexpected. The two warred for domination as the foreign sensation of each other's lips melted slowly into desire. Malfoy's marked hand hesitantly fisted in Harry's shirt.

Quicker than a moment, Harry knew this was right. No matter if Malfoy was the ice to his fire, they would balance the other out. Another spring of desire welled up within him.

Hermione.

Like cool rain in the Springtime, her hand left gooseflesh in its wake. Harry wanted more of it, all of it, flooding and surrounding him. He called to them and excitedly, they answered in kind.

The kiss ended all too soon and both broke apart gasping for air. Had they really done that? Did they really enjoy it? Malfoy turned his attention to the petite witch at his side and raised a brow in question.

Hermione smirked and voiced her own, "Intoxicating?" she recalled his earlier words to her.

He smirked before answering, "Completely."

* * *

Secretive glances were exchanged during breakfast, and attentions was easily diverted during conversation. In short, Hermione found it hard to accomplish anything productively.

After lunch, Malfoy cornered her in the hall and kissed her so thoroughly, she literally ached the moment he left her.

Later, during impromptu meeting in the kitchen, Harry deliberately ran a teasing hand between her legs. Making sure no one was wise to his actions, he teased and danced around the apex of her thighs, until she was undeniably aroused from his ministrations. She could only watch as Malfoy sniggered to himself across the table.

Lupin stared at them all curiously. Afterwards, Hermione fled the kitchen, completely sure she gave away the plot to her former professor.

She spent the remainder of the afternoon with Tonks, in hopes to stem their combined sweet assault, but it was futile. Although both witches sat outside, Hermione was bombarded by promises Malfoy and Harry swore to perform upon her body. Imagine, talking about Order business and goings-on while trying to ignore whispers of how much they wanted to lick her pussy - the nerve!

Tonks probably thought her defective the way she could barely carry on a conversation. After lamely excusing herself, Hermione left the puzzled witch to retreat to her room and escape their dark promises.

As the evening wore on, the Order members slowly left the house. She heard Harry bade each one goodbye, though he spent a bit of time with the Weaselys. The conversation was strained when it came time to speak with Ron. Only when Harry promised he would join them at the Burrow tomorrow, did the young man loosen up. Harry quickly explained that he could not accompany them tonight as he had to take care of a few things first.

When Hermione overheard that, she quickly headed to the washroom. Her hands could not wash her body hard or fast enough. When she returned to her room, she quickly picked through her trunk in effort to find something to wear. How does one dress for the night one loses their virginity? Her smile dropped a bit as she thought of Ginny and how she would often speak, to Hermione's horror, about giving her first time to Harry one day. And here, Hermione was about to experience what the young witch had dreamed about - with two lovers no less!

Hermione closed the lid of her trunk and pulled the towel closer to herself, deep in thought. Her heartbeat accelerated and staccato'ed at the thought. This was it. She would no longer be a virgin after tonight. And she sorely lacked confidence in  _this_  department; what if they were not pleased with her? She had overheard her dorm mates talking about sex once, in the late hours of the night, but that certainly did not mean she was an expert at it. After tonight, she would be fully bonded to two men for the rest of her life.

A sense of finality weighed upon her with the light knock at her bedroom door. Worrying her bottom lip, she hesitated answering it. Forever was an awfully long time.

The Rune of Wisdom tickled within her palm as she walked towards the door. With a last breath for courage, she pulled the knob and opened the door to her fate and smiled at the two young men filling up her doorway. A slow smile graced their boyish features as they filed inside her bedroom.

As the door closed behind the trio, a small blue towel fell to the floor.


	6. Chapter Five

Although the towel dropped to the ground, Hermione clutched her hands to her heart, covering her breasts. Outside the wild static of her heartbeat, she stood, frozen, as Harry and Malfoy's combined gaze swept the length of her body.

They were about to erupt in laughter at her nervousness, she just knew it, as she shivered in the night air. While she could not speak to Malfoy's sexual experience, she knew Harry had experimented in some form or the other with Cho Chang. It seemed she was the only virgin among the trio. The earlier wave of self-confidence dissipated with the thought. Malfoy's smirk grew as he appraised her; it had the opposite effect on her waning self-confidence.

However, a bloom of pink spread across her best friend's cheeks. "You're beautiful," Harry spoke on a reverent whisper. "Isn't she, Malfoy?"

Malfoy, who had been stunned into silence, watched as Harry stepped forward to capture her hand. He tugged her forward before she fell into his arms. Gone were the fevered kisses from earlier. Gone were the teasing pulls and caresses that kept her in a perpetual state of arousal, as he caught her lips in a slow, meaningful kiss, full of promises. His lips covered hers in a way that did not push, but only gave. When he pulled away, he whispered for her ears, "It's my first time, too."

Hermione's eyes widened at the announcement. She smiled and lifted on her toes to kiss him again; hands hesitantly lifted to his shoulders and bunched the fabric of his shirt. She pulled away from the kiss, taking confidence in his admission, and spoke to pair of them, "It's not fair that I'm undressed, and yet, you both remain fully clothed."

"Is that you're way of getting me naked, Granger?" Malfoy quipped, sans the bite, as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.

Her eyes dropped to his chest again. She longed to trace the sculpted muscles. "It kind of defeats the point, don't you think?" She stepped away as Harry removed his clothing as well.

Once the trio had fully disrobed, Harry took her hand and led her to the bed Malfoy had magically enlarged. She laughed to herself at the three of them attempting to have sex on her previously small twin bed. Malfoy made himself comfortable on top of her duvet and beckoned her to come closer.

Pausing at the foot of the bed, she stared at the pink organ between his legs that would soon be inside her. She flushed simultaneously with embarrassment and arousal. It seemed as if her body was more prepared than her mind was.

Slowly, she climbed on top of the bed. It was an awkward dance, but eventually she situated herself between Malfoy's legs, her back facing his front. There was a moment where she jumped, unfamiliar with the touch of Malfoy's arms encircling about her own … but, he was softer than he looked. Oh, he was sinewy muscle stretched beneath skin, but she felt …  _comfortable_  against his chest, like she belonged there and would be protected there. A breath or two after the initial sensation, she relaxed against his hold and inhaled the enticing scent that was his alone. She tracked the golden air along his pale arms and marveled at how they clashed; his pale against her golden hue. Oddly, it fit, she thought to herself.

Hermione adjusted once more, causing Malfoy to groan against her ear. He pulled her flush against his chest in response. Then, unexpectedly, he placed a soft kiss to her temple. Normally, she would have never expected such an intimate gesture from the Slytherin Prince, but this moment was anything but as she wondered at the oddity of it all. Had someone told her at the beginning of the summer that she would be losing her virginity to Harry Potter  _and_ Draco Malfoy, she would have had them committed to St. Mungo's.

However, Malfoy was not pleased at her mental wandering. His kisses, at first intimate in nature, steadily grew into nips and licks as he moved across her jawline, until the bites had her squirming in a good way. A hand guided her head to his before Malfoy captured her mouth in a searing kiss.

If Harry's kisses were sweetness and warmth personified, then Malfoy burned of fire and passion. He took from her mouth much more than she gave. She gave a small gasp when a single finger parted her lower lips. Her head lolled back, limp, but Malfoy was there to steady her lest she faint at the new sensation. She had rarely pleasured herself before tonight, yet the comparison between her fingers and Harry's single digit was vast. Is this what she had been missing?

She broke their kiss to moan aloud, when another finger joined the first. In anticipation, Malfoy tightened his hold about her lax body. His fingers smoothed up and down her arms and belatedly, she wondered why no one was touching her breasts? Her nipples had hardened into aching, pink peaks in the open air. The begged for attention: to be touched, licked, and caressed. Greedily, she admitted she wanted to experience what she had in her dreams. Surely they knew that. Why weren't they acting on it?

"Hermione, open your eyes," Harry ordered.

One eye, then another, opened to take in the young man before her. Harry's fingers delicately worked over her nub and outer ring before dipping into her again. Her hips buckled of their own accord. They would drive her spare!

"Tell us what you want." Harry's emerald eyes bore into hers as he teased and brought her to the height of arousal.

Hermione bit her lip in earnest. Did they not already know? Why did she have to say it?

"You," she worked around her frustration. Harry's fingers pulled free, covered in her juices. She watched as Harry liberally coated her labia and perineum with her arousal. The slippery digits twisted and played in ways she did not know existed. He tore moans and gasps from her body, though still, it was not enough.

"You need to do better than that, princess," Malfoy admonished into the shell of her ear. His blasted hands still had not stopped their maddening trek up and down her arms. It did not stop him, however, from kissing her neck. Malfoy licked the sweat accumulating in the pocket of her collarbones.

She shuddered a shaky breath. " _Please_ ," Hermione begged instead, her eyelids lowered in lust. If they wanted her to beg, she would. They were barely touching her and she was already on fire. Every light touch caused a shudder. Every dip of a finger caused her womb to spasm. She was not going to make it through this night. Collectively, they would drive her to the brink with only finger and tongue.

Malfoy laughed into her neck, causing her to arch into Harry's hand.  _Finally,_ Malfoy's hand moved to capture her breast, at the same time Harry suckled the other into his mouth.

 _Merlin_ , she screamed to herself.

Harry continued to tease while he suckled. Malfoy alternated between sweet kisses and possessive nips to her neck while his fingers pinched and pulled at her abused nipple. Hermione could only sit between them as they pleasured her. She did not know what to do with her hands; she could not think of a single, coherent thought as her mind tried and failed to process the concurrent sensations their ministrations wrought upon on her body.

The results of their sweet assault coiled and tightened her womb and all too quickly, they had her shaking apart in their arms. While the orgasm rippled through her extremities, Malfoy used the moment to capture her mouth while Harry dipped lower to take the apex between her thighs.

The simultaneous push and pull of their tongues, in her mouth and in her vagina, had her quivering words she could not understand. Dazed, she caught a mess of Harry's shaggy, black hair while the other grabbed the back of Malfoy's neck. Nothing else existed outside the feel and taste of their tongues as she allowed herself to be the instrument they played their expert concerto upon.

As if they could feel her hunger for more, Malfoy roughly broke away from her bruised lips and grated sharply, "Up."

Hermione blinked through lust-induced confusion as Malfoy tapped her thighs twice. Following suit, Harry pulled her to stand on still-quaking knees. Her uncertainty melted as Harry pulled her in for another kiss. She could taste the remnants of her own arousal, and while the taste was foreign, she did not mind it. She deepened the kiss to his delight, but froze when a finger poised at the entrance to her back channel.

She swallowed, suddenly afraid. She knew that this might happen, but still, she was not entirely prepared for it. Harry cupped the side of her face as the finger, firm yet patient, continued to play at her puckered hole.

Harry swept reassuring kisses across the worry lines on her brow, on her cheeks. Behind her, Malfoy used the juices that trailed down her thighs to coat his fingers and very slowly, she felt him push into her.

"Relax," Harry whispered against her, forehead to forehead. She bit her bottom lip at the pinch that shot up her spine as another finger worked to join the first. It was foreign and it hurt. She pushed against it.

"Hermione," Harry breathed against her mouth. "Look at me," he implored until worried eyes met his own. "Relax. It will feel so good. I promise." Harry kissed his promise as she tried to lose herself in the sweet kiss. She tried to block out the increasing tension and pain burning against her forbidden entrance. Ever so carefully, Harry laid her down, but this time she did not meet a soft mattress.

She opened her eyes in shock as Malfoy's tip broke through her outer ring. His wide girth, bit by bit, stretched and pulled against her unused walls, so much so, she screwed her eyes tight. Harry's mouth remained locked with hers so she could not scream her pain, though her friend tried mightily to distract her with lips and tongue. But her mind could only focus on Malfoy's cock, as it buried its way deep within her arse. Malfoy growled with the effort to seat himself fully within her.

Malfoy gripped her hips as he finished burying into her. She took shallow, rapid breaths as she tried to acclimate to the size of him. She was very aware of him as he opened her up fully from behind. He held still, allowing her time to grow accustomed to the size and feel of him. She inhaled and exhaled through her nose as she took in the foreign sensation and slowly, the pain lessened. The throbbing sensation remained, though it did not hurt as much as before.

Oddly, she found her center weeping even more now as she struggled against the need to touch herself. The ache in her womb reappeared, now desperate for attention, as she tried to adjust her hips, searching for something just out of reach.

Malfoy groaned, his head resting against her neck. "Gods, you're fucking tight!" he said through clenched teeth. Ever greedy, Malfoy pushed up into her. Both gasped at the exquisite sensation. It was sharp and focused; her vaginal walls fluttered in response, feeling woefully empty. "You better hurry, Potter. I'm not going to last." Already, the control in his voice faltered.

Malfoy pulled her legs open for Harry and quickly, Harry closed the space between them. His cock in hand, Harry guided himself through her final barrier. Hermione watched as her best friend became her lover before her eyes. He pushed himself against her barrier once, then twice, and with a sharp hiss, he was buried to the hilt.

Hermione heaved and whimpered as the barrier gave away, but compared to the pain of having Malfoy take her back channel, this… this, she could handle. Pain dulled enough that she became aware of two pulsing organs buried within the seat of her. There was no space left within her to give. Experimentally, she shifted against twin foreign sensations, and both wizards moaned at the unexpected movement.

She allowed herself to bask in their embrace, her mates. Above her, Harry seemed to crumble upon himself, as he trembled from effort. He was past the point of waiting. "Ready?" Harry looked over her shoulder to Malfoy beneath her. She assumed Malfoy nodded in the affirmative because before she could respond, Harry withdrew from her heat.

As Harry pushed his way back in, stuffing her to the hilt, Malfoy moved back and away from her. Her mind jumbled at the sensory overload as they fucked her in tandem. Her body barely had time to grip one cock before it began its retreat and she was bombarded by another. It was glorious. Nonsense and words she did not understand flew from her lips. Together, the young men increased their pace. Her battered womb spasmed as Malfoy brushed against it from the back, and it twitched when Harry knocked against it from the front.

Color exploded into front of her eyes. She would never be the same after this. They had ruined her. The two pushed her body into the heavens as she broke apart so beautifully between their flushed bodies.

Barely recognizing the barrier of her skin, she did not notice Harry sinking his teeth through the soft skin of her neck. Equally sharp pain in her back told her Draco had marked her in similar fashion. She watched through half-lidded eyes as Harry and Draco's mouths met in a passionate dance over her shoulder.

She did not care. As long as they kept moving against her body, Voldemort could tear into Grimmauld Place, and she would not care a wit.

When the kiss between the two ended, Harry dropped blood-stained lips to hers, but she was too weak to respond. They continued their beautiful torment as sweat co-mingled between the three of them. Every fiber of her being hummed, as ancient power danced about her magical core. Experimentally, she thought through their link,  _Come for me._  She was rewarded with a deep groan from Harry and a sharp curse from Malfoy as both men locked around her body. Twin floods of warmth filled her as both ejaculated deep into her channels. She mewled as her battered walls twitched in a flurry, suddenly thrown into rapture once more.

All three collapsed into a mass of limbs and fluids. Hermione barely had time to pull herself free before Harry climbed over her, a dark look in his eyes. She was frightened by the predatory nature found there and swallowed audibly at the sight of his now-sticky erection hardening once more. This bond spurred and fueled their desire, she knew, but there hadn't been enough time for her virginal body to recover. Her body teetered on the cusp of pleasure and pain, and she knew she was not ready for another round so soon.

Fortunately for her, Harry's dark look was not directed at her, but at the blond wizard who had just rolled away from their post-coital pile. Hermione could only watch as Harry grabbed the back of the blond's head and roughly shoved his tongue into his mouth. Malfoy let him. She sat on her heels as the two rolled around the other, the hard lines of their bodies dotted with perspiration. She could not take her eyes off the sight and felt her core begin to tighten in anticipation.

Malfoy had moved to Harry's neck and judging by the pained growl that escaped Harry's mouth, Malfoy marked the wizard as his own. Her breath hitched as Harry flipped Malfoy in a blur. Hermione smirked and thought to herself,  _Seekers._

 _Through and through,_ they answered in unison.

She shook her head, amused. While her body recovered, Hermione watched, fascinated, as Harry primed Malfoy's body, similar to what Malfoy had done with her. Her mouth fell open as Harry's bulging erection pressed into Malfoy's back entrance as the blond wizard rested on all fours ready to receive him. Had she made the same face of pain when Malfoy entered her, she wondered? The blond clenched his pointed features as Harry's cock slid into him slowly, but fully. Her heart gave way at the sight of Malfoy's pain and suddenly, she was stuck with the same desire to take it away as Harry had for her. This night was about uniting in pleasure. Her heart would not stand for pain. Summoning her wand from across the room, she silently cast a cleansing charm on her mates.

Hermione took note of Malfoy's pale cock, flushed and straining, as it bobbed between his thighs. She licked her lips at the thought. Could she? Making the decision quickly, she laid on the bed as the sound of mating, furious and thorough, flooded her ears. She turned so Malfoy and her body intersected at a "T" junction; she paused at his wrist. Malfoy's hands fisted in the sheets as he steadied himself against the rhythmic thrusts springing him forward.

Harry did not take it slow and easy for him, as he did for her.

Her mouth wrapped around the underside of Malfoy's wrist and silver-grey eyes, that had been closed in pleasure, suddenly opened as she sunk her teeth into flesh. The need to mark him as hers flooded her senses. Not recognizing it at the time, she pulled Malfoy's blood in time to Harry's thrusts, careful not to take too much.

Scooting further down his body, she paused and took in the intimate junction of their joined pelvises above her. Malfoy remained on all four, and she watched with wide eyes at Harry's cock piston-ed in and out of Malfoy above her. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh would forever remained burned into her memory. Malfoy's red-stained cock bobbled in front of her nose and hesitantly, she opened her mouth to double his pleasure. It was the least she could do after he had shattered her so exquisitely earlier. Malfoy's head fell forward in a tortured groan as she took him into her mouth.

"Fucking … Merlin, I can't …" Malfoy huffed on a pant.

Hermione swallowed him deeper, relaxing her jaw so her tongue could caress the taunt flesh. He tasted different, but unique, in his own way; she liked it. She forced herself to watch their coupling, and slowly, she timed her strokes to match Harry's above her.

Harry growled low in his throat, "Gods, you feel so good. I'm … going to come." Quickly, she lost her timing to Harry's frantic pace, so she did the only thing she could. She reached to fondle Malfoy's balls, followed by Harry's. The move sent both boys over and soon her throat was full as seed poured down her throat. She swallowed it eagerly, her reward for a job well done. Above her, Malfoy choked and sputtered as his orgasm rode through him. Hermione did not see his face the first time around, since he was behind her, so she eagerly took in his shivering form this time. She committed to memory his heaving stomach, the beads of sweat rolling down his arms, and his face, beautifully caught in rapture. She continued to suckle and swallow as Harry froze above her, and finally, she knew he was coming deep within Malfoy's channel.

* * *

Harry came with a sharp swear as Draco's tight arse squeezed his cock. As he emptied the last of himself, his hand skirted up the blond's arched back until he ran into platinum hair. In a post-coital haze, he hoisted the blond up and sunk his teeth into Draco's shoulder. Draco willingly took the mark as Harry lapped at the pure-blood spilling over his tongue.

Below him, Hermione confidently attended to his now-burgeoning erection. Gods, this bond made the refractory period almost non-existent. Harry felt himself primed for another round. He winced slightly at the prick to his inner thigh. Hermione had delicately sunk her teeth into sensitive skin as the warmth of her magic radiated throughout his body. They had each marked each other as their own; their bond was complete. There would be no going back now. Finality washed over Harry. It felt better than any orgasm ever could, though there had been several amazing ones already. He suspected there would be several more to come before sunrise.

Distracted, it took Harry a moment to register that his mates had moved away; Draco and Hermione now engaged in a fierce will of tongue. Her virginity equally split between them, she wasted no time in taking what she wanted. Harry knew she would not appreciate being left out of the last coupling. In fact, by the way she was going at it with Draco, the witch demanded payment right then and there. He supposed they did owe her.

Harry and Draco sat back as Hermione quickly got into position. Her chest heaved with impatience as she glanced back at them. "Well?" she questioned, petulantly. "Are you just going to sit there?"

Harry and Draco wore identical masks of surprise, as a black and blond brow lifted in question.

_Should I take her arse this time?_

_Doesn't matter to me. She feels divine either way._

_I **can**  hear you, you know._

Hermione squealed as two sets of lips ravaged her, two sets of hands caressed her, and two rock-hard cocks pressed against her. Her eyes fluttered in bliss.

 


	7. Chapter Six

It was true Draco Malfoy had not been a virgin, but all the same, last night's experience had been just as new. Contrary to his earlier worry, he did not feel ashamed at having taking two lovers at once. The night had been fucking incredible, if he were honest. The morning after, both he and Potter crept back to their respective bedrooms, lest an unsuspecting Order member came calling. However, it had been downright painful to leave Granger's bedroom. He couldn't quite describe it; it wasn't just the insatiable need to mate that drove him spare, he just wanted to bloody be near her, and Potter. The rest of the day was spent slogging through unfamiliar feelings until Potter dragged him outside for an impromptu training session. He ended up being much more grateful for the session than he cared to admit.

"Yes! That's it! Hold the memory and … brilliant!" Potter exclaimed as the corporeal dragon danced around him before it flew up into the sky and vanished. "Excellent! It normally takes days of practice to conjure a full-bodied patronus. Excellent work, Malfoy." Potter pushed his glasses back up his nose as he congratulated him.

Draco nodded, stiffly, at the compliment. They had one more night before Draco was due to return to Malfoy Manor. Granger had spent the majority of the day in the Black Family library researching their bond while Potter caught him up on defensive spells. Draco had to admit, after last year's disastrous defense curriculum, Potter had taught him several useful new spells. Draco figured it was the least Potter could do before he returned to the viper's nest. Potter's unrest at the whole situation was easy enough to discern. It seemed the completed bond had not only heightened their physical responses to the other, but they were more receptive to their world at large. All three reported sharpened senses: smell, hearing, eyesight, as well as an increased ability in magic.

"Shall we duel again?" Draco called across his aunt's backyard. The wizards dueled in perfect tandem after learning they did not tire with magical output. Potter blocked two of his spells in rapid succession, before returning two of his own. Draco was able to block the first, but Potter's  _Expelliarmus_ knocked his Hawthorn wand out of his hand.

Potter caught the wand as it sailed into his hand and smirked at Draco. "Again?" Potter tossed the wand back to him as the two sank into dueling positions.

They paused as Granger stepped through the back patio door. Both could read her buzzing excitement before she reached them. She exclaimed hurriedly, "I think I found something! I was in-"

"The library, we know," both Potter and Draco guessed.

Granger narrowed her eyes in irritation, but sniffed as she continued, "If I interpreted the passage correctly, there might be another way to amplify our magical capabilities through our bond." The amused glances Potter and Draco wore dissolved into intrigue as she explained. "We might have to work at it, but it seems the bond works as a conduit of electricity." Draco's brow furrowed at the Muggle concept and she adjusted her statement. "Think of it like a river. Power flows from one end to another, but if we can dam it, we can harness our magical energy and use the excess stores. Magic flows through us like a river now," she gestured from Potter to Draco to finally herself, "but there may be a way for one of us to tap into another's capabilities. Like a reserve," she finished.

"I don't understand," Potter scratched his head.

Draco crossed his arms and thought over her explanation. "So, if either of you so desired, you could use my magic without my permission?"

Granger shook her head. "Everything is shared equally. You would still retain some of your magical ability, but yes, I can bolster my own. But I can't just take it from you. That would leave you defenseless and vulnerable to attack."

Draco nodded after a moment. "Let's try it."

"Now?" Potter questioned, unsure.

"Why not? Never know when it might come in handy. Let's do it. Granger," Draco indicated for her to proceed.

"Okay, I guess I'll start." She closed her eyes and thought through their link.  _Ready?_

 _Go for it,_  Draco answered.

 _I guess so._  Even through their link, Draco could sense Potter's trepidation.

The curly-haired witch centered her concentration within. She caressed the two auras beside her, as she pulled slightly on Draco's consciousness. Their completed bond operated like a large window between them. Draco's most innermost being, his fears, desires, and deepest wishes laid bare before her. To access it, all she had to do was to reach forward and take it.

Across from him, Granger struggled as she tried to tap into the magicks of her mates, but she was not the brightest witch of her age for nothing. Draco gasped as sudden a fierce wind rushed through him, leaving him cold and shivering. And like that night, when she had initially bound them, a warm gold mist materialized and hovered about her petite frame.

"How do you feel?" Potter asked her. She opened her eyes and both, he and Potter, jumped back in surprise. "Woah! You're eyes, Hermione…" Potter trailed off in wonder.

Confusion was evident on Granger's heart-shaped face. "What is it?"

"They're glowing," Potter remarked.

As if her magic answered her unspoken desire, a silver handheld mirror appeared in the hand not holding her wand.

"Did you just do that?" Draco questioned sharply, suddenly very intrigued.

Granger nodded, partly in fear. She had not performed a spell or wandlessly summoned a mirror. "I'm not sure how. I just thought about it and it appeared." Granger slowly lifted the mirror to her face and sure enough, there were golden flecks floating within her brown irises. The gold pieces moved about the pupil in an ethereal pattern that almost frightened Draco. But it was the light ring of gold that encircled her pupil that truly stood out. Draco watched as she appreciated the new features within her eyes. He imagined she always thought them plain before, but now her eyes were eerie, yet hauntingly beautiful.

The mirror vanished as she turned to the stunned-into-silence wizards. "I can only hold onto your power for so long," Granger pressed to them, before ordering sharply, "Hit me." She suddenly dropped into a defensive stance as she produced her wand from her sleeve.

"Are you mad?" Potter asked.

"Granger, I don't think…?"

Granger levelled her wand at their heads. "Just do it!"

The two teens had one moment to share disbelieving glances before she began without their approval. The magic that had gathered within the seat of her rune itched for release as she expelled it through her wand. The warm golden light funneled into electricity as Potter and Draco produced a shield charm in response to her assault. Their shields were weak, but they held as the force of her magic forced them back. Earth and dirt gathered around their trainers from the effort to remain upright.

"Draco, break left!" Potter ordered, his concentration on his shield waning. "On three!" He shouted over the golden light breaking through his shield. Tiny cracks began to dismantle it and if he had not dropped and rolled away, he would have been hit.

On the count of three, both wizards dropped: Potter to the right, Draco to the left. They had a moment to roll away before Granger spun and aimed after them.

Draco could not believe Granger was attacking him with his own magic. He could feel the ebb and flow of their connection between them. He watched as she spun effortlessly, blocking his offensive spell before using  _his_ magic to return the volley to Potter! Remarkable. The three outmaneuvered each other before it became too much for her.

She was about to attack Draco once more, when she halted, her hands dropping to quaking knees. Good thing, too, because all three were exhausted. The backyard of Grimmauld Place looked like a war zone. Broken patio chairs and exploded railing littered the singed and smoking grass.

 _Are you both alright?_  Potter asked through their link. None of had the strength to physically voice the question or a response.

Draco nodded wearily and fell to the ground, his wand arm draped over his knees.

 _I think I may have pushed it,_ Granger responded after a moment.

 _You think?_  Draco sneered in their minds.

Granger continued, her head still in between her knees,  _I needed to know if we could still defend ourselves, if one of us ever had a need to draw each other's magic._

 _I could do some defensive spells, but anything more complicated, I couldn't conjure it._ Potter answered her.

She agreed.  _I figured. We can pull from each other's … dam … for a lack of a better term, but not for a long period of time. The strength needed to hold the connection to all three is extraordinary!_  Granger finally collapsed to the ground and crossed her legs. She regulated her breathing to a more normal pace, but it was still a bit much to form simple words, so she continued telepathically,  _But it amplifies our magical ability astronomically. Honestly, I had no need for my wand at all. I could perform defensive or offensive spells with a single thought. And it was stronger. So much stronger than any spell I've cast before._

"That's good to know." Both Potter and Granger turned towards Draco, the first to speak normally. "I don't appreciate being without my magic, even if it is only a reduced amount, for  _any_  period of time," he sneered.

Granger nodded. "Right. I don't think it's something we should use often. A last resort, if you will."

"So life or death situations only?" Potter put forth to the trio. Granger grimaced, but nodded. Draco nodded as well, shortly after her.

* * *

For the first time in weeks, Draco slept soundly without any dreams. It probably stemmed from the copious amounts of mating between the three of them. They had reenacted anything and everything their bond had manifested in dreamscape, but it was so much better than a mere dream. Looking down at the dozing brunette laying beside him, Draco smirked her blatant exhaustion.

Granger napped between him and Potter. She lay on her stomach, with one arm pulled beneath her head. Her back, the only skin visible, as the rest was blocked by a duvet, was covered in love bites and scratches. Not that Draco couldn't say the same for his fair skin. They were all going to need a serious helping of healing potion after tonight. They had marked each other feverishly, not that Draco had minded, of course.

The pull to pack had been sated for the moment. Vigorous nights of mating seemed to do the trick and now, Draco rested peacefully without tantalizing dreams haunting him. Last night, he had selflessly threw himself into their coupling. Something told him that it may be their last chance to do so, now that a new school year was upon them. Draco could admit, he was going to miss sharing Granger and Potter's bed. He carefully sat up to disentangle himself from the witch, mindful not to disturb her. To his surprise, Potter was already awake and leaning against the headboard.

"Are you going to leave?" There was a hint of emotion that he could not place as he slid grey eyes towards the Boy-Who-Lived. Potter looked different without his glasses on, Draco noted.

Clearing his throat of the remnants of sleep, he whispered across the bed, "You know very well I can't stay. I need to get back to the Manor. If we're to go through with this, then I need to convince my mother and aunt that I haven't defected."

"But will they  _believe_ you?" Potter whispered back.

Draco shrugged. "I'm sure they won't appreciate my leaving in the middle of summer, but I'll find a way to convince them."

"You know I can tell when you're bullshitting me." Potter leaned over Granger slumbering beneath them. "I can't believe I hadn't thought to do this ritual sooner. You're like a bloody open book." Potter smiled as he read the emotions flowing from the blond. Irritation, annoyance and embarrassment. But Draco recovered smoothly, like he always did.

"I've always known you fancied me, Potter," Draco replied with a wink. "Shame it took a spell and blood bond to get you to admit it." Potter pinked and Draco grinned wolfishly in response. Again, Draco slowly tried to leave the bed, but Granger, sensing the rush of cold air, scooted closer to him. Draco frowned as she burrowed into him.

"It seems she doesn't want you to leave," Potter chuckled softly.

Draco had to admit, he did not want to leave the warmth of his of mates, either. It felt like home, more so than the Manor ever did. While it was true they would be joining the rest of Hogwarts' at King's Cross in a few days' time, Draco didn't know how they were to regard one another in public after this. He gathered, for appearance's sake, they would keep things status quo as not to raise suspicion.

Carefully, lifting the blanket over the sleeping witch, Draco extracted himself from the bed. "The train for Hogwarts leaves in three days. I'll see you guys then," he replied coolly. Draco moved around the room gathering his clothes. He did not want Potter to witness how hard it was for him to leave. How scared he was of going back to that place, to  _him_. Draco was leaving for his childhood home and for once in his life, he did not want to go back. "Keep her out of trouble, yeah?" Draco inclined his head towards Granger, who was now burrowing against Potter. She shifted in her sleep, as if sensing e the uneasiness in the room.

"She won't be happy you left without a plan."

"Well, I've never been much for planning."

"Draco," Potter called as the blond neared the door. "Be safe."

"That's your job, Potter. Not mine."

The door shut behind the blond with a click as Harry scooted down to lay next to Hermione. He already knew it was going to be a long day. Harry sighed loudly, but immediately regretted it as Hermione stirred against his side. He knew she sensed the loss as he pulled her in close. Draco's scent lingered upon her, mixing sweetly with her own. Harry closed his eyes and inhaled the musky-sweet aroma, committing the smell to memory.  _Three days_ , he thought to himself.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Hermione, something has happened." Harry stood with Hermione and the Weasleys at the platform 9 ¾. Throngs of students, with their families, rushed around them, although Harry could not make out the mop of platinum hair he had been longing to see.

Hermione fiddled with her trunk near the entrance to the train car. Even though she had gotten over her initial frustration at Draco's sudden departure, she worried just as much as Harry. She tried to soothe her worry along with his, "Harry, he's playing a part. You know that, right?"

"Then why won't he answer us?!" Harry replied, exasperated. He had not been expecting contact with Draco around the clock, but he thought Draco would, at least, check-in with them often.

Hermione had no answer to that question. As they made their way through the compartments, they settled in beside Ginny and Ron, who had little to say to either of them. The start of their sixth year was already on rocky footing. As the afternoon winded down into twilight, Harry made a decision and hastily exited the compartment. Hermione followed after him.

"That's it. I'm going," he answered her unspoken question as he bundled his father's cloak under his arm.

Hermione did not have to read his mind to know what he was about to do. "Harry!" she warned lowly.

The train's whistle screeched, announcing their imminent arrival into Hogsmeade Station. "Just go with Ron and the others to the castle. I'll meet you there in a bit." His cloak in hand, Harry threw it over himself and made his way towards the Slytherin section of the train. Very carefully, Harry was able to maneuver himself up and over the cart above Draco's bench as he settled himself to listen for any clues about why his mate had been so mum towards him and Hermione. What had happened in those three days?

Harry refused to believe that Draco had betrayed them, but he demanded answers.

Conversation floated to his ears about the coming year and plans You-Know-Who were putting into place, but there were no specifics. As the train slowly pulled into the station, Harry was no closer to finding out why the blond was acting so reclusive than when he and Hermione first boarded. He watched as Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson grabbed their trunks and de-boarded, without Draco, at his insistence.

Once the car was empty, Draco lowered the curtains wandlessly and sighed, "I know you're there, Potter," he grated through teeth.

Draco's annoyance prickled through Harry's skin as he threw off the cloak and jumped down into the aisle. "Where the hell have you been!? Hermione's been worrying her bloody head off!"

"Where do you think I've been?!"

"I wouldn't have to guess if you'd let us know!" Harry shot back just as hotly.

"I've been with  _him_. You know, the Dark Lord? Seems once he's made up his mind to keep you, they like to indoctrinate you into the family," Draco replied sarcastically.

It was then Harry noticed the redness staining the corners of Draco's eyes. Instantly, he locked onto the harshness of his tone, the tight fist clenching in warning, and the black smudges under his eyes. Harry whispered in concern, "What did they do to you?"

Draco's mouth dropped into a sharp frown. "He made me  _his_." The words were drenched in disgust and contempt as Draco choked back emotion as he turned away in shame.

What could Harry say to him, so obviously in pain, and so obviously hurt? Why hadn't Harry noticed it before? He watched Draco grimace as turned to pull his trunk from the rafters. The slight limp as he moved down the aisle and off the train hadn't been there before, had it? Anger stirred as Harry took in the cues of someone who had been punished relentlessly. Three days they had lost contact with him. Had they tortured his mate for three days?! White hot fire burned through Harry as he walked beside Draco in stony silence.

Only  _he_ could mark his mate. Harry rolled his shoulders in irritation as the overwhelming need for vengeance nearly swallowed him whole. "We'll make him pay, Draco. I promise," Harry swore gravely, acutely aware that he could not truly comfort his mate. In public, they still had a role to play.

Draco did not respond as the teens de-boarded the train. He gave the briefest of nods as the two silently parted ways and carried their trunks to the last Thestral-drawn carriage.

 


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Happy Christmas and Happy Boxing Day to you all! I wish you all a peaceful holiday season.

The first week of their sixth year started off as any other. Timetables were handed out, and while Hermione delighted in her schedule of Advanced Arthimancy, Charms, and Potions, Harry was not as satisfied with his. After the commotion of the first few days, new and old students alike settled into their daily routine.

Their first night back, Harry reported to Hermione his earlier conversation with Malfoy. While she was upset that Malfoy had to return to Malfoy Manor in the first place, she grimly understood. Unfortunately, neither Harry nor Hermione were able to speak with Malfoy in the subsequent days. It seemed the blond wizard was not up for sharing what he'd learned while briefly in the Dark Lord's company.

Hermione knew he needed time to come around, but Harry was anxious and remained on edge. Often, she had to divert his attention during mealtimes, lest he make a scene and march right to the Slytherin table. She yanked on his robes and quietly admonished him that Malfoy would speak to them when he was ready, and they would do well to leave him alone.

So the two quietly joined their classmates, pretending to ignore the Slytherin. And while her days started like any other, her nights left her disgruntled and yearning. It had only been a little over a week since Hermione had lost her virginity, yet she found herself craving more. Her body, which had previously been sore from inexperience, had adjusted to accommodate her mates. Now, she found herself anxious for their touch constantly.

Her dorm mates may have been onto something about the delights of sexual activity — and for once, she could not fault them. She sighed, burrowing beneath her bed covers. Hermione longed to boast to Lavender and Pavarti about the most delicious way she had lost her virginity over the summer, and to whom, but she bade herself to remain quiet.

However, that did not stop her mind from vividly replaying every detail that had been meticulously burned into memory. It played in an endless loop every evening and even once during class. Back in her bed, Hermione squeezed her knees together to still the tightness that coiled within the very center of her. She pulled her blankets up to chest and rolled to her side to focus on sleep, but she was unsuccessful.

Giving in to the moment that refused to leave, Hermione timidly ran a hand down her stomach and over her knickers.

Could she?

She closed her eyes and pretended Harry's hand was hers. Her fingers moved the damp fabric of her knickers aside as she parted the lips of her womanhood. She was already aroused just from thinking about it. She tried to mimic Harry's ministrations, tried to time it to Malfoy's imaginary strokes, but after a minute of teasing, she pulled her hand out and groaned her dissatifaction.

It was no use. Her hand could never be Harry's; her fingers were a woefully inaccurate replacement for Malfoy's cock. She had gotten used to sleeping with two sets of arms around her at night. Two mates seeing to her every pleasure. How could she ever go back to sleeping alone? It was hard to deny the safety, the feeling of protection, she received when enmeshed between Harry and Malfoy. Though she wrapped arms around herself, by comparison, her arms paled to theirs.

 _Lonely much?_  Hermione heard Harry through their link. She smiled to herself. It seemed her thoughts were bleeding through the boundary of her mind again.

 _I can't sleep_ , she admitted.  _Is it just me?_

A moment of silence and then Harry answered,  _No. I can't either._

Hermione wondered if Malfoy was having as much difficulty sleeping as she reached out to him. Hesitantly, she called,  _Malfoy?_  A pregnant pause followed. Hermione's mouth pressed into a frown.

 _Maybe he's asleep?_  Harry speculated.

Hermione shook her head, but then remembered Harry couldn't see her and thought,  _No. I can feel his irritation from here. He's ignoring us_ , she accused.

Malfoy's skill in Occumlency had doubled since returning to Hogwarts. She felt a wide berth of magical energy leave her the night he had returned to the Manor, and deduced he had used it to shield himself from the Dark Lord. But now, the skill made it harder to read him. Although she could still sense some traces of emotion from the blond, it did not help that he steadfastly refused to answer either her or Harry. What was his deal?  _Malfoy, I know you can hear us._  Hermione waited, but again, no reply came. She would happily take a snarky reply, but no such response came.

Harry sighed in her head.  _Leave him be, Hermione. If he doesn't want to talk to us, we can't make him._

But Hermione was, if anything, persistent. She knew that if Harry could feel her … frustrations … for lack of a better word, across the tower, then she knew Malfoy could feel the same all the way in the dungeons. Twisting her lips in determination and with a renewed sense of dedication, she once more sent her hand southward. As her fingers twisted and pulled at sensitive flesh, she re-played the memories through her mind. At the same time, she reached out to caress the auras of her mates. Her body flushed with heat and she spread her legs just so. Harry's response was immediate.

 _Hermione…_  Harry's voice trailed off in a moan.

 _Yes?_  She thought innocently, as she gathered more of her juices on her fingertips and liberally spread it as Harry did so days before.

His response was a strained,  _What are you doing?_

Her eyes fluttered closed as her she pushed one, and then two fingers inside her dripping entrance.  _What do you think?_  she sarcastically thought through their link. Her womb spasmed as she twisted her fingers against her walls

Harry groaned in reply.

 _Can you feel that?_  she asked, though she had a sneaking suspicion.

_Gods, yes, and if you don't stop -_

Hermione cut him off, _I don't want to stop._  She used her pillow to smother any verbal response to the manual stimulation.  _I need you both_ , she reached out to them  _… inside… I just …_  Her fingers tried to speed up in response as Harry's warm aura surrounded her. It caressed against her breasts, her neck and her overheated skin. She could take no more.

 _Please!_  she begged, waiting for one more to answer her call.

Harry groaned with her, as she lifted her hips in search of that elusive spot that only her lovers seemed able to find. As Harry's aura stretched down to her weeping womanhood, it changed from an enveloping warmth to a liquid cool. It was as if he had literally breathed a cool wind against her center. The shocking juxtaposition between her heated core and the coolness sent her tumbling over the edge. She clamped a free hand over her mouth as her hips lifted of their own accord. She stuffed the heel of her hand into her mouth to keep from screaming. Distantly, she could hear Harry's own cry of release in her mind. She surmised her orgasm had triggered his own.

It took a few moments for Hermione's breath to stabilize as she gingerly removed her battered palm from her mouth. With a slick 'plop', she pulled free her other hand. She did not call for Malfoy, but she could feel him all the same. The promise of a mighty vengeance seeped from the brooding blond. Although not the initial reaction she sought, she could not help but to bite her lip in nervous anticipation.

As she found herself relaxed enough for slumber, though still unsatisfied, she turned in her bed and closed her eyes, the warmth of Harry's aura caressing her into sleep. The last thing she heard before unconsciousness claimed her was Draco's voice in her head. She could not be sure, but just there, on the cusp of asleep and awake, she heard in her mind,  _Well played, Granger._

* * *

As Hermione readied herself for classes the next day, she was unsurprisingly greeted with an owl at her dormitory window. Opening the window to let the tawny school owl in, she eagerly gave it a treat in exchange for the missive. In Harry's messy scrawl was the request to meet him in the Room of Requirement before lunch. Hermione smiled to herself and for once, found herself looking forward to something other than her schoolwork and tomes.

Even though she only had a few hours to go, more than once, she found herself daydreaming in class. As Professor Binns droned on, she sat lost in her own world. Harry was not in class this morning, but Malfoy was. Hermione stared at the back of his head and wondered if Harry had sent him a note as well. But as always, he would not answer her calls, no matter how hard she glared at the back of his head. Their eyes did manage catch briefly across the aisle and before he blocked her again. In the brief moment, she was able to catch his irritation along with his desire. For whatever reason, Malfoy was holding out on her and Harry. It was starting to grate on her nerves. How were they supposed to protect him, if he wouldn't speak with them? Typical, broody git.

The rest of the period passed without mention and before long, Hermione found herself walking three times in front of the entrance to the Room of Requirement. She did not let on, but she noted Harry trailing behind her. She thought it peculiar that he did walk with her — no one would find it odd if they were seen speaking in public.

The doorway presented itself on her last pass and quickly, she entered the hidden room. The Room was empty, not even a couch presented itself. Only an unlit fireplace sat across the vast, empty space. Turning to see if Harry had indeed followed her into the Room of Requirement, she drank in the dark look that changed his normally bright, green eyes to the darkest jade. "Is Malfoy coming?" she asked, hopefully. Even though he was ignoring them both, she could not deny that she missed her mate.

Harry shrugged, loosening his tie from his collar as he pulled off his sweater. "He didn't answer my owl." The disappointment behind Harry's words mirrored her own.

"I see," she said quietly. Her mouth twisted with the desire to go and find Malfoy herself. It was time they got to the bottom of his self-imposed silence.

But Harry's eyes found hers and the quiet sadness that overshadowed him faded into something else entirely. Something dark, but in no means frightening. "Didn't stop you I see." His gaze dropped hungrily along the length of her before lifting to meet her eyes. The pull to pack flooded her senses, leaving her helpless to follow. The Rune of Wisdom burned with her desire. She squeezed her nails into her palm to stem the pulse found there.

"Of course." Hermione walked backwards as Harry stalked towards her, until the stone wall of the Room of Requirement greeted her back.

Harry paused in front of her, as if waiting for something. All the courage from her late night rendezvous disappeared now that she stood before one of her mates. She remembered Malfoy's promise of vengeance before she had drifted off to sleep and wondered if she had teased them too much. Harry's jaw clenched with difficultly as his eyes lowered to her lips. "Show me what you did last night," he ordered.

Her eyes widened, caught. She swallowed against the lump of embarrassment lodged in her throat, trying to deflect his order. "It would be better if you could do it yourself. There isn't a need to now."

"Hermione." He pushed his magic into her name. Godric, just him saying her name did silly things to her. Firmly, she pushed him away and lowered to pull her wool skirt down to her knees. She stood up, dressed only in her Oxford shirt and knickers, as she toed off her shoes. A blush crept along her skin at her best friend-turned lover's appraisal. Emboldened, she undid her tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt.

She willed her hands not to shake as she pulled the blue fabric of her underwear down her legs. It was quite different doing this with an audience versus the sanctity of her private poster bed. She closed her eyes against Harry's intense gaze and tried to recreate the magic she'd initiated last night. Hermione jumped at the sudden feeling of Harry's hand covering her own. He had taken her shaking fingers within his own. They did not break eye contact as Harry's hand expertly guided her over her dripping folds, and when his thumb ran against her senstive nub, her mouth fell open in a gasp.

Harry, decidedly pleased with her response, used the moment to capture her lips up with his own. He drank from her mouth as if he could not restrain himself any longer. She curled her tongue about his and together, they danced as their fingers pumped in and out of her pussy. Harry pushed her against the wall, bruising her back. Before, where her sweet Harry coaxed her into her first time, there now stood a man possessed.

"I'm sorry," Harry said roughly, his restraint withering as he quickly pulled away from her. Confusion dusted across Hermione's features as he abruptly halted their combined ministrations. Their short-lived high was marred by the fact that one other was missing.

It took her a few times to say it correctly, but when her heartbeat returned to normal, she roughly managed. "It's alright … I understand."

After ending their brief rendezvous, guilt plagued Hermione throughout the day. At lunch, when there was no sign of Malfoy, her worry increased. Food held little interest to her now. The guilt plagued her relentlessly, and by time she left her last class of the day, she marched out the classroom determined to assuage the feeling.

Instead of going to dinner, she was determined to confront the blond head on. While Malfoy could shut her out due to his increased skills as an Occulmens, she could locate his presence through their bond. While she valued her privacy, and respected theirs in turn, it was useful when one needed to be found urgently, as was the case tonight, she deemed.

Quickly turning down another corridor, Malfoy's incense grew, but Hermione would not be deterred. She walked quickly and followed behind Malfoy as he banked left; his paced increased as he tried to outpace her, but she just doubled her steps. "You know, I used to think you were a sniveling coward, Draco Malfoy!" she called behind him, but still, he would not answer. She baited him further, determined to get a response. "Ironic, you hold the rune of Courage and yet, you won't even turn to answer me."

Annoyance melted into the beginnings of rage as he threw a nasty look over his shoulder. She faltered mid-step at the warning, but brushed it off and continued. She would not let him escape this time. "What the hell is your problem? How are we supposed to protect you if you won't even talk to us?!" She was close enough to grab his arm and did so.

Malfoy whirled on her and quicker than she could have imagined, she found her back crashing into a stone wall twice in a day. Her sore back complained with the effort as she grimaced from the pain. The back of her head ricocheted off the stone slab as Malfoy tightened his fists about her forearms, effectively pinning her place. The corners of his mouth dropped into a fierce frown. "How can I possibly talk to either of you, when you and Potter are busy shagging each other's brains out?"

Even though Hermione's head reeled from the assault, she was uncomfortable at the false accusation. She refused to show any sign of embarrassment before him and would not apologize for any physical intimacy between her and Harry. Anger made her recovery quick. "If I recall, Harry sent an owl for to join us. You declined," she growled watching his mouth which twitch in anger and indecision. Hermione knew he would not harm her, but it did not stop him from squeezing fingers into her flesh. "Had you joined us, you would have found we couldn't ... continue... without you there, you dolt!"

"Excuse me, if I did not want to interrupt the lovebirds in a shared moment," he spoke, the beginnings of a growl beneath his words.

Hermione searched his eyes for the markings of doubt, but knew he was being sincere. "What did you call us? Do you think Harry and I are in  _love_?" Her mouth struggled over the word 'love'. Hermione would not exactly call it that. Yes, she had love for Harry. Years of trust and companionship had bonded them long before the  _ame de loups_  ever did. Maybe, yes, the foundation had been laid for something more, but she did not think she was there with him yet. This bond awakened her sexual prowess, gave her two mates, but was it love? Hermione warred between the logical and what the bond was telling her to be true, while Malfoy continued.

"It's quite obvious on his end. Imagine, sitting in your dorm, being showered with emotions of love while the two of you shag each other into the wall. It's not exactly," Malfoy searched for the proper word, "comforting," he finished.

Hermione was floored. Was Malfoy actually jealous? Was this the reason he had been ignoring them for the better part of a week? She had been reluctant to leave Malfoy out of their time alone in the Room of Requirement, but she, like Harry, had been briefly swept in the pull to pack. She swallowed guiltily now that everything was clear: Malfoy's aloofness, his unwillingness to answer neither her nor Harry's call, it made sense.

Malfoy sneered as he read the realization on her surprised face. "Found the answer you were looking for?" he remarked. He loosened his hold and she stumbled as she regained her footing. "Curiosity will kill the cat, didn't you know?" Malfoy spat as he stepped away from her. The physical and emotional distance between them dripped with nervous energy and unspoken feelings.

"Why didn't you tell us what they were doing to you?" Hermione tried to switch gears to why he had not told them of Voldemort's torture. Her cheeks still flamed with realization as she tried to steer the conversation to other questions that needed answering.

"Would it have made a difference? It's not like you could have sent the Calvary after me."

Her voice rose with her renewed irritation. "You could have least let us know you weren't dead! Then the school year starts and you won't even speak to Harry and I -"

"If you two weren't -"

"Oh, please! As if that's hardly an excuse. And I'll have you know -"

Malfoy foresaw her tirade and cut her off. "Yes, please pencil me in to shag my own mates … oh, I don't know, next Thursday?! I believe I'm available then -"

"Malfoy! Hermione!" A new voice interrupted them.

Both Malfoy and Hermione whirled from each other's throats to find an out-of-breath Harry at the opposite end of the corridor. Harry walked with grim determination and ignored the anger stemming from the two. Hermione surmised her face, as well as Malfoy's, matched a ripened tomato.

She took a moment to straighten her robes, which Malfoy had ruffled earlier. Hermione could tell from Malfoy's pursed lips that he was not going to answer, so after a calming breath she did, "What is it, Harry?"

Emotion gripped Harry's green eyes. He looked between them and answered, "We need to go. Professor Dumbledore wants to speak with us," he announced gravely.

 


	9. Chapter Eight

_Just let me do the talking_ , Harry ordered through their link as they'd topped the moving staircase outside of Professor Dumbledore's office. He did not know why Professor Dumbledore had sought the three of them out after dinner, but he had an inkling. As much as Harry trusted his Headmaster, he did not think it apt to share that he was now bonded with Malfoy and Hermione. Some things were better left unsaid.

 _Harry, he wanted to speak with all three of us. You can't just expect us to remain quiet,_  Hermione replied, her exasperation clear, though she said nothing.

 _I wouldn't expect_ _ **you**_   _to, even if you tried_ , Malfoy sneered into their minds.

 _Shut it, Malfoy,_  Hermione gave back, still annoyed at his earlier treatment of her person.

"Ah, welcome, welcome," Professor Dumbledore greeted the trio as they walked into his office. They were surprised to find Professors McGonagall and Snape also in attendance. "I trust you have had a pleasant first week of classes?"

Harry glanced at Professor Snape, who had already assigned a three foot essay due by the beginning of next week, but weakly replied, "Yes, sir. You wanted to see us?"

"Wonderful!" Professor Dumbledore walked around the large oak desk to stand before the trio who rested nervously on the balls of their feet. "And yes, I've been informed by the Order of the most interesting news," he eyed Malfoy as he spoke next. "Is it true that you've decided to spy for the Order, Mr. Malfoy?"

A queer sensation licked the back of Harry's neck as Professor Dumbledore regarded his one-time nemesis. Harry nodded inconspicuously for Malfoy to go ahead. It wasn't like Dumbledore did not already know.

When Malfoy confirmed that he was, Dumbledore continued on a sigh, "Such a high demand to place on someone so young. I see there is no need to remind you the penalty of betraying such a cause."

Malfoy nodded stiffly. "I'm quite aware of the consequences of being found out, if that's what you mean."

"I do." Dumbledore spread his hands as if he were waiting, "So, have you anything to report? I know the year is new, but —"

Malfoy interrupted him, "He hasn't quite let me in his inner circle yet," he deadpanned.

Harry could feel the stirrings of anger prick along Malfoy's skin as he struggled to keep his irritation in check.

"He has plans for me, but I don't know what they are just yet," the blond finished.

Harry hoped he wasn't sending his mate into the snake's nest for nothing. It was one thing if it was of Malfoy's own volition, but Harry and Hermione were responsible for him now and suddenly, he grew cross with the Order's decision to send Malfoy in at all.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I see." He swung a bespectacled gaze to Harry and Hermione next. "And you both are trusting of Mr. Malfoy's involvement?"

Hermione scoffed at his implication. "With all due respect, sir -"

Dumbledore interrupted her. "Believe me, I meant nothing untoward, Ms. Granger. I just find it … odd that you, of all students, would trust Mr. Malfoy so completely given your history over the years."

Hermione shook her head fiercely. "People can change," she remarked, resolutely. She glanced at Professor Snape slinking in the corner, but knew he was watching the scene play out dutifully. "I'm sure you know that more than most," she finished as her gaze reverted back to their Headmaster. She lifted her chin to emphasize her point.

"More than most, I can assure you," he finished with an enigmatic smile. "And you, Harry?"

Harry nodded as well. "I do." He would not give anything further. Dumbledore was seeking the truth behind their sudden reversal of feelings when it came to the blond wizard, but both left no room for doubt.

"I guess it's settled then." Dumbledore pushed off his desk and made a shoo-ing motion. "Well, it's off to your dorms, then." The three warily gave one last look before dismissing themselves.

After they'd left, Professor Snape finally spoke up, "Well?" he drawled as he moved to stand beside Dumbledore.

Dumbledore turned to Gryffindor's Head of House. "What do you think, Minerva?"

"Severus can keep an eye on Mr. Malfoy in the field, I suppose. We will watch him here. Time will tell." The older witch shrugged her shoulders.

"It seems you have now acquired two spies within your ranks," Snape finished. With a sharp nod to both, Snape turned on his heel and exited the room.

"So it would seem," Dumbledore agreed. Minerva took her leave after Snape, leaving Dumbledore to ponder this newest development. Making a decision, he called forth his Patronus and sent the news to where he knew it would be most useful. As the ethereal Phoenix flew through the windows of his office, he whispered, almost regrettably, "It cannot be said I did not give him an out."

* * *

Harry caught Malfoy's elbow and instead of letting the blond wizard sulk towards the dungeons, he pulled him up a moving staircase. Hermione quickly jumped on behind them.

Malfoy struggled to pull his arm back, but Harry would not be deterred and reaffirmed his grip. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, Potter?" Malfoy growled.

"We need to talk," Harry stated simply, as all three marched up the shifting stairs. Too much needed to be said between the three of them and Harry was ready to get to the bottom of it. Tonight. Silently, all three made their way up the winding staircases, mindful of Mrs. Norris and Peeves' wandering eyes.

Malfoy did not answer, but removed his arm from Harry's grasp and silently followed. Soon, they found their way to the Room of Requirement on the empty seventh floor. Hermione walked the required times to access the room, while Harry and Malfoy stood cold-shoulder to cold-shoulder.

As they entered, they found the walls of the room were outfitted in ceiling-to-floor length mirrors and nothing else. Multiple reflections greeted them as they entered. Harry kept walking expecting to see Malfoy beside him, but turned to find the blond had not moved since entering the doorway.

Malfoy crossed his arms across his grey jumper and arched an arctic brow. "Well?" he paused. "Talk."

"That's not how it works, Malfoy," Harry pressed, trying to steady his agitation at Malfoy's arrogance. "We've been trying to speak to you for days now.  _You_ talk. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Malfoy remained silent as the two wizards engaged in a heated stare. "Why the hell should I tell either one of you? I'm to report to the Order, remember? I don't recall anything about specifically reporting to you," Malfoy sarcastically quipped.

Harry shrugged in like manner. "Well, I'm not sure … maybe because we're  _mates_ … you know, bonded?" he quipped in return.

The blond's mask of boredom morphed into ire. "My  _mates_?" he questioned, incredulously. "Why, of course!" Malfoy sneered. "Protection, shared interests, and let's not forget, all the shagging I can take, right? Oh, I forgot … that only seems to be applicable to  _you and Granger_!"

"Malfoy, you're wrong-" Hermione started, but Malfoy was incensed.

"You think I don't know what the two of you were up to?" Malfoy's voice rose sharply. "That I couldn't  _feel_  how content you two were while I sat alone halfway across the bloody castle?!"

"Malfoy, are you implying -" Hermione started, but he sharply cut her off.

"Shut up, Granger, yeah?"

"Don't speak to her like that!" Harry shouted, his anger matching Malfoy's. "She's as much as part of this as you are."

"Fuck you, Potter! I should have never come to Grimmauld that night!" Malfoy rolled his shoulders in irritation and clenched his fists. He stalked closer towards Harry one step at a time, as fingernails bit into his palm. "I should leave you both, right this very second."

Even as he spoke the words, Harry knew he wouldn't. Harry matched Malfoy step for step and soon, only a few meters separated the wizards. Harry's emeralds narrowed as he noted the anger simmering around the blond wizard. He tried for nonchalance, "You would only be hurting yourself, Malfoy. But suit yourself." He shrugged, carelessly.

" _Hurt!?_  You wouldn't know anything about  _hurt_ , Potter," Malfoy's mouth twisted as he spat out the word.

"Just try me," Harry scoffed lowly. He grew incensed that Malfoy would so callously accuse  _him_  of not knowing suffering, as if it was  _he_ that grew up in a pampered, sheltered world for the first eleven years of his life.

Instead of Malfoy responding as expected, Harry watched as the mirrors surrounding them suddenly frosted over to a murky grey. The once-multiple reflections that mimicked their actions disappeared. Hermione drew her arms around herself to stymy the cold and to Harry's surprise, his breath escaped in little clouds of vapor as the temperature in the room decreased dramatically. An invisible gust of wind whipped around them and cut through their hair. Harry glanced back to Malfoy, who stood impervious to the frigid air blanketing the room.

More puffs of vapor escaped as Harry called to Malfoy unsuccessfully. Harry groaned as the blond reached inward,?and that could only mean one thing. Harry inwardly cursed as he felt the blond siphon his magical energy. By the looks of Hermione tightening her arms around herself, he figured Malfoy was doing the same to her as well.

The vicious wind crested and soon, snowflakes emerged from the cold air. They raged around the room on a whirlwind. They multiplied and all too soon, Harry's visibility decreased as the room dissolved into a mass of grey and white. Tiny specks of frozen crystals began to materialize on the lens of Harry's glasses.

He could not stop his limbs from shaking as the snow furiously whipped around Malfoy in a vicious cyclone, though it did not touch him.

Malfoy's chilled voice matched the temperature in the room. "I spent three days on the floor of my own bloody dining room." As Malfoy continued, his anger grew, and the snow and wind grew with it. Harry's head snapped towards Malfoy, and again, he found he could not move. He stood entranced as Malfoy persisted with his tale, "They took my wand, broke both my ankles, broke two of my ribs, I'm sure I had collapsed lung. They burnt my hands to the flesh." Said hands were now healed and balled into two fists that hummed with a faint, silver glow. Malfoy's jaw worked over his anger. "All I wanted was to  _die_. They made my mother watch …" his voice faltered when he mentioned his mum, "as they …  _broke_  me, and you have the audacity to just stand there …" he trailed off in wrath.

The blizzard intensified then. Harry stumbled from the pulsing waves of Malfoy's fury that barreled out from the center of the room. The very air he inhaled started to sting the sensitive flesh of his lungs as the beginnings of frostbite began to kiss his nose and fingertips. Through it all, Malfoy stood impervious to the conditions surrounding them.

Harry could not help but take in the manifestation of the Rune of Courage awakening.

Malfoy's once-grey irises now held bright silver flakes that danced furiously about his pupil in time to the frantically falling snow in the room. His clenching and unclenching fists hummed with a silver light that itched to be used. Harry knew that if he went against him now, from Hermione's earlier demonstration at Grimmauld, he would not hold Malfoy off for long.

But looking at the furious blond, standing there in the midst of the storm he had created, Harry considered that maybe this was what he wanted: some semblance of control, where previously there had been none. Instead of feeding into the rage around him, all Harry wanted to do was to erase it. Oh, he wanted vengeance for what Malfoy had confessed, but he did not want to take it out on his mate.

Harry swallowed around the lumps of frost collected in his throat. Awashed in his own guilt, Harry did the only thing he could and hoped it would not backfire on him. Summoning his Gryffindor courage, Harry steadied his wand arm and reluctantly leveled it at Malfoy. Hermione yelled in the distance for him to stop, but it was too late.

Malfoy's brows rose in surprise, and just as quickly, he accepted the challenge. Malfoy's hands opened as he released the growing expanse of power and directed it solely at Harry. Harry responded by non-verbally summoned his Patronus, the only thing he felt strong enough to go against Malfoy's magic. And while it was not as strong as it would have been before this wonderful display of magic, it did hold. Their magic met and cackled as each fought for dominance.

The force of their combined magicks, now in Malfoy's control, threw Harry against the mirrored wall. A sharp crack sounded as his head ricocheted off the glass. Warm liquid oozed into the collar of his shirt. Harry did not have to look to know that his head was bleeding. Malfoy's magic pushed against his shield as he struggled against the mirror to hold his now rapidly weakening Patronus. Turning his head slightly, he saw Malfoy was simultaneously holding Hermione at bay with a wall of ice. Harry could see her dueling against the immovable block, but it seemed that Malfoy had intended this fight between the two of them.

"Does hurting me make you feel better?" Harry yelled over the din. "Is this what you want?!"

Malfoy released a yell of frustration. "You don't fucking get it, do you?!"

"I  **get**  it! They  _hurt_ you! But don't  _you_  understand?"

"What are you on about?" The attack lessened.

"Every time they hurt you, they hurt me as well. And if you need to wound me in order to move on," Harry threw down his wand, "then fucking do it and let's get it over with! But do not expect Hermione or myself to just forget that you exist." Harry drew in a ragged breath. "That you don't …  _mean_  something in all of this. To us," he finished quietly.

Malfoy abruptly dropped his advances and the attack ceased. The snow stopped whirling around in a vicious cyclone and reverted back to softly falling snow. Small crunches could be heard beneath his shoes as he made his way to Harry.

Harry stood his ground as Malfoy approached, captivated by the silver snow floating within his irises.

"And what  _exactly_  do I mean to you both? Some patsy to accomplish a means to an end?" Malfoy's eyes searched Harry's for the truth.

"No," Harry freely admitted. "You mean … so much more. You both do. Don't you see? I wouldn't be here if you didn't," he replied honestly.

Malfoy's throat bobbled as he swallowed audibly, at a loss for words.

Harry took the moment to continue, "If I've done something that led you to believe otherwise, then I apologize." The next flowed easier than the former. "Draco, I promise. Never again," he vowed.

The blond narrowed his eyes, as if testing the validity to Harry's vow, but slowly, he nodded.

Contemplative in the heavy moment, Harry voiced the question that had been nagging in the recesses of his mind. "Back at Grimmauld Place, when Ron hit you. The night the Order came?" Malfoy snorted softly, but Harry carried on, "I could feel it on my chin as if he had hit me. Hermione could as well, if I remember. If they," Harry struggled over his anger as Malfoy froze, "… did that to you, then how come Hermione and I didn't feel anything?" Very quietly, Harry continued, "I imagine it was rather a lot to take."

Malfoy did not respond for a few moments, tapping his wand against his leg. Eventually, he replied, "I reinforced my mental shields, so the pain wouldn't bleed over to you both. Would have been rather hard to explain being doubled over in pain for three days straight, I suppose," he shrugged, nonchalant.

Even though Malfoy tried to downplay the act, Harry saw it for what it was. "Thanks." Other expressions of gratitude rushed forth, but Harry held them at bay, knowing it would only further agitate the blond. Malfoy nodded in response.

Harry looked across the snowy floor. The Room of Requirement was outfitted in mirrors and multiple reflections greeted them once more; the two of them stood in two inches of freshly fallen snow. "So … snow, huh?"

"Rather fitting, I suppose."

Harry agreed. "It is." He glanced over Malfoy's shoulder and repressed a smile. "Going to let her out now?" He inclined his head towards the corner and both wizards turned to find Hermione still effectively trapped within her ice cell.

The block of ice Hermione pushed against suddenly vanished. Hermione tumbled forward ungracefully, hands first into the snowy floor. Lifting from the ground, she dusted the snow from her jumper and skirt. Wasting no time, she marched over to the chortling wizards. Her glare lacked the heat that accompanied her words. "I suppose you find this hilarious?" She lifted her nose into the air. "Have you two effectively made up, then?"

"Quite," Malfoy snorted, quite comfortable in the snowy mess he'd created.

"Hermione," Harry started, beside Malfoy, "he didn't mean it." Harry gave Malfoy an obligatory glance to cooperate, but the blond wizard was full of recalcitrance.

"Come now, Granger." Malfoy replied, his classic smirk in place. "I do believe you need to  _cool_  down."

Quicker than Hermione could imagine, a pale hand closed around a handful of snow. She had one second to blink before said snow met the middle of her face. Words failed her as specks of ice fell through the opening of her shirt. Once the snow hit flesh, she squirmed, quickly uncomfortable.

"Ooohh! I—I can't believe you..." The ice turned into frozen water against her heated skin as she hissed in discomfort.

"What, no witty retort?" Malfoy taunted. "Your mental faculties are slipping, Granger," he teased.

Revenge overtook her. "You … you sneaky  _ferret_!" she accused. Quickly ducking down, she gathered all the snow she could into one hand and launched it in Malfoy's direction. However, possess any athletic skills she did not, so said snowball missed her intended target.

Harry bit back a chuckle at her sore attempt of a throw. His laughing did not help matters. She threw what remaining snow she had and smiled smugly as the snowball landed squarely atop his head.

She crossed her arms and nodded, pleased with herself. With a gleeful shriek, she spun and ran as the two suddenly gave chase. Or well, at least Hermione had  _tried_  to run. The soft soles of her Mary Janes were no match for the slippery surface. It seemed the very room was set against her as she slid along the snowy ground. With a shout, she twisted to dodge out of their arms, but the maneuver cost her her footing. A second later, her backside met the ice cold floor.

Taking a moment to squirm against the cold, now pressed against her bottom, Hermione grimaced as snowball after snowball pelted her back. The fabric of her jumper started to dampen with their combined assaults and she huffed in annoyance at the unfairness of it all.

Hermione turned, lifting a hand to shield her face. She used her free hand to grab her wand to even the stakes. Because really, she wasn't the brightest witch-of-their age for nothing, and while they may outnumber her two-to-one, they could not contest her intelligence and magical capabilities.

She took pleasure in their twin faces of shock as she pelted them both with a newly-created charm she had tinkered with last year. Usually when snowballs hit, they usually melted and dampened one's skin or clothes. The snow she hit them with now did not melt and it did not fall off of their clothes. It annoyingly stayed put as she rained death-by-snow upon them. Even though her bum was freezing and her hands shook from the frigid air, she smirked in glee as they realized their plight.

Harry was the first to admit defeat. He threw his snow-covered arms up, his wand upturned in his grasp. "Alright, ALRIGHT, Hermione! You win!" His teeth chattered. "Y-you win!"

Malfoy, however, was not deterred as he pushed forward through her charm. As the snow continued to cover his neck and upper torso, she realized he was not going to stop. "Admit defeat if you want to, Potter!"

Hermione yelped as he leapt forward, aiming for her wand arm. She did not think she would find herself wrapped in a hug with a snow-covered Malfoy, yet here she was.

It was an odd sight, the three of them, frolicking in the snow-covered Room of Requirement. But it was therapeutic in a way. Here, they were just three teens having a bit of fun. There was no war, no spies, or pain.

Cold and shivering, Hermione cast a warming charm as they cleared an area for the three of them to sit and talk uninterrupted. It was awkward at first and they stopped more than they could count the first few minutes, but eventually, they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Even the nagging pull of reality and obligations that awaited outside of the Room of Requirement could not encroach on the important moment.

* * *

Across the British Isle in Wiltshire, Narcissa Malfoy was incensed. She was hurt, scared for her son, and terrorized within her own home, but there was little time to dwell on other emotions. For now, she would hold on tight to her anger. Anger kept her on her toes, and kept her alert. And with reprobates for housemates, being alert was paramount. She had tried to hold her head high those first days after the Dark Lord had moved his followers into her home.

Narcissa could only watch in horror as her deranged sister and others took part in his 'festivities'. As she took in what they described as a 'revel', a diminutive part of her was glad that Draco had left at the onset of the summer season. Fortunately, she could not lie when the Dark Lord had questioned her on her son's whereabouts because truthfully she did not know.

It had hurt to know that her own son was out there, without protection, but she drew comfort with every day that passed with no news of his death or capture. Narcissa knew Draco to be as resourceful and cunning as his father, and if anyone could find a way to safety, it would be her dragon. But still, it did not erase the worry that filled her chest, that inkling sense of doom that soon this would all come to an end. The day the blood wards had alerted her to her son's return, Narcissa's heart both somersaulted and plummeted at the same time.

Because she knew what awaited him and she could not stop it. While she delighted in his safe return, seemingly unharmed, Narcissa could only watch as the Dark Lord handed down his punishment as he saw fit. She would have locked herself away in her quarters if she could have. She would have gladly taken it all in his stead, but the bastards held her in place, forcing her to watch. The howls of pain would never be erased from her memory that night.

Three days, she stood forced to watch.

The Dark Lord sat in his high chair as he took in her son's punishment.  _Initiation,_  he had called it. With a twisted smile of glee, it was then that she knew. She would give everything in her power to kill that bastard. He might have lowered Lucius Malfoy from the once-proud man that he was, but he would  _not_  take her son. He would not have him! With every whip that lashed through her son's flesh, with every yell of pain, Narcissa devoted herself to her vow. With her dying breath, she would see her son avenged and that mad man brought to his knees.

That was two weeks ago and now in the present, she allowed herself one more moment of grief at not being able to help her son. It was the last she would see him, for the next day, he was back to school with a new 'assignment'. What assignment, she could not gather, but she knew of one person who could tell her. However, getting close enough to speak to him would be another thing. But she was determined to see her vow through to the end.

Anger tunneled her thoughts as she succinctly worked her way through different avenues that would help reach her goal.

"And where do you think you're going?" A dark whisper interrupted her train of thought.

Narcissa paused in the dark hallway, observing the draperies along the wall. She stilled and straightened her back.

The creature moved out of the shadows like a ghost. It was unnerving that something so large could move so quietly. As Fenrir Greyback neared, she frowned. His smell alone should have alerted her to his presence. It could have alerted the entire wing of the house. There was a pungent odor of rot and blood marred about him. It offended her senses, and she lifted her nose in distaste.

"To my rooms," Narcissa bit out sharply. "I assume that is still allowed." Delicate hands clenched in her skirts with the beginning of frustration. She did not know when Voldemort begun to have her shadowed within her own home, but the werewolf Greyback had the most annoying habit of sneaking up on her, as if he were waiting to for her to escape. Even though she longed for freedom, she would not leave her family home. Not without Lucius and certainly not without her son. She would see it burn to the ground first.

The stench of rotten flesh washed over her as the creature neared her. "It is." Fenrir paused. "For now." He lifted a large hand and ran his claws through blond tresses. Narcissa turned her head in disgust. "Be happy it wasn't me who broke your darling boy. I would have not been easy on him as the others were," he gloated, knowing how much it wounded her for others to speak about her son.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes, but did not rise to take the bait. At her silence, Fenrir continued. He pulled several strands of platinum to his nose and inhaled loudly. "Hmm, you smell divine. Always have." He sighed in yearning and clenched her hair tighter when she tried to pull back, effectively trapping her between his bloodied clothes and putrid breath. "Not like that son of yours," he mused.

Narcissa's gaze sharpened. "What are you talking about?"

"I guess you can't tell. Your son, the young Malfoy, smelled … different," was all Fenrir could offer. "I couldn't recognize it, but it was alluring and familiar in some way." He twisted the platinum strands until Narcissa had no choice but to step closer to him. "Almost as alluring as you," he whispered. He pressed against her and she could feel the disgusting evidence of his arousal pressed against her stomach.

Alarming and sickened, Narcissa planted her hands on his expansive chest and heaved. "Get your hands off of me!" She forced her lips to hold in the cry of pain as her hair ripped from her head, but she could not stomach one more second in his presence. "Stay away from me, and stay away from my son."

"You don't give orders, love. You'd do well in remembering that."

"And you'd do well in remembering to whom you speak to, beast," Narcissa sneered and continued her trek down the hall, in effort to put distance between her and Fenrir.

"We all have an animal hidden within us. I've just accepted mine," he spoke to her back. If she had glanced over her shoulder, she would have caught sight of the half-man, half-animal inhaling in bliss the strands of platinum hair he held as souvenirs.

 


	10. Chapter Nine

If he were a betting wizard, Blaise Zabini would place ten galleons on the fact that Draco Malfoy was hiding something. As the first month of the new term winded down, he started to notice the oddest behavior coming from his dormmate. Not only had Draco picked up late night study sessions with Hermione Granger (his grades had never been an issue before), but little things started to alert Blaise that something  _more_  peculiar was afoot.

His first clue came during the first Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match of the season. Even though Draco supported his team from the stands, it was after Gryffindor defeated Slytherin that Blaise caught sight of Gryffindor's newly-minted captain, Harry Potter, sharing a word with Draco.

Still a mess in his Quidditch gear and sweaty from the long game, Potter and Draco shared a few words. It wasn't the sight of the school rivals talking to each other that alarmed Blaise, for there had been plenty of taunting on both sides from the Seekers over the years. No, it was the fact that no words of malice had been exchanged. In fact, their tone could almost be described as … good-natured. But any conversation was kept short and the two parted before Blaise could take further notice.

Even though Draco was not playing on Slytherin's team this year, he waited for Blaise and the other players outside of the dressing tents after that first match. The two friends quickly met up and walked back towards the castle in comfortable silence. Curiosity got the best of Blaise, but true to his house, he did not come right out and ask what was on his mind.

"We might have won that one if you were playing Seeker. I swear, Harper has the reflexes of a mountain troll! I still don't understand why you're not playing this year," Blaise lamented.

Draco snorted. "I told you, I don't have the time to this year." He shoved his hands inside his pockets. "Harper'll come through, you'll see."

Blaise gave Draco a sideways glance. "Harper isn't a match for Potter." At the mention of Gryffindor's Seeker, Blaise caught it: the slight facial tick was quick and minute, but telling.

Keeping in beat, Draco responded with a sly smile. "No one is Saint Potter."

But Blaise caught the giveaway for what it was. "You and Potter are awfully chummy nowadays," he mused slowly. At Draco's affronted look, Blaise amended his earlier statement. "I mean, more so than usual. Usually after a Slytherin loss, you berate Potter's heritage, threaten him, and go sulk in the Common room for days," Blaise finished. He kept his eyes on the path ahead, but every now and again, shifted to gauge Draco's response.

The blond shrugged casually. "I was in a jovial mood. What your prying eyes could  _not_  deduce was that I happened to win a bet."

"A bet? On the Slytherin-Gryffindor match!?" Blaise was vexed. "Did you bet against our house-"

Draco cut Blaise off before he could finish, clearly insulted. "Never! The terms and conditions of my wager are for my knowledge only, but suffice it to say, I will be collecting on it."

"Collecting on a bet? With Potter?" Blaise repeated, not because he did not understand, but because he wanted to make clear what Draco was admitting to.

"Yes," Draco replied, as simply as informing him grass was green in the summer.

Shortly after that conversation, Blaise kept a wary eye on the mercurial blond as a cloud of suspicion began to surround his best friend over the following weeks. They were days when the blond would come back to their dorm, clearly upset and frustrated at something. Those nights, Blaise would wisely stay away from Draco while he worked through his frustrations. However, this was nothing new. Over the years, Blaise had grown well-accustomed to his dorm mate's famous surly moods when things did not go his way. But even Blaise had to admit that this was more than Draco's usual sulking. After Halloween had past, a new level of urgency seem to accompany Draco's brooding. Exhausted of Draco pacing the length of their common room late one night, Blaise set down his book on Advanced Potions and gave in, exasperated.

"Just what the hell is it now? I swear, Malfoy, if this is over some bird, then-"

Draco paused and shook his head as if to clear his runaway thoughts. "What? No! This not over 'some bird'," he rebuffed.

"Then for bloody sakes, what is it?! I'm afraid your poor dragonhide boots won't survive the night." Blaise lifted his chin towards his friend's footwear, before muttering under his breath, "Not that you don't have twenty pairs of the exact shoe in your wardrobe."

Draco narrowed his eyes at his friend's quip, but nonetheless, sat down in an armchair across the room. "I have this … task," he started wearily. In the span it took Draco to finish his sentence, Blaise marveled at how quickly a bone-deep weariness seemed to sink into Draco's frame. His friend was ever reluctant to show true emotion, and that he was allowing Blaise to witness such a moment spoke volumes. Draco slouched into the chair as a faraway look seemed to cloud his eyes.

"What task?" Blaise leaned forward, his interest peaked.

Draco did not answer him as he looked caught in his own world. Blaise watched as Draco angled his head in question. Draco's eyes narrowed as if he were holding conversation within his own head, before his lips pressed into a firm line.

Long moments passed before Draco shook his head and answered. His eyes focused on Blaise' questioning ones. "Something I have to do," was all he gave cryptically.

Blaise sharply shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Not good enough. You're clearly worried about 'this task' and then all of sudden; it's just 'something I have to do'. What is it?" he pressed.

Draco's eyes hardened, and the previous weariness that gripped his frame retreated back to wherever Draco tucked away his feelings. "It's none of your business, Zabini." He pushed out of the chair and quickly disappeared towards the dorms, leaving a slightly confused and even more determined Blaise in his wake.

The size of his internal wager grew larger by the moment.

The two friends did not speak much over the next few days. In fact, it was not until Blaise mentioned during a morning meal at the Slytherin table that he was attending one of Slug's parties that night with Potter and Granger that Draco addressed him for the first time.

"You're actually going?" Draco asked. "I thought after the initial luncheon, you decided it wasn't for you?"

Blaise shrugged. "Changed my mind."

Draco frowned. "I didn't get an invitation, neither did Theo or Pansy." Both Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson nodded in agreement.

Again, Blaise shrugged. "Old Slug's got a thing against Death Eaters," he bit into a pastry as those around him silently fumed. "Sorry," he replied, not the least bit apologetic.

Beside him, Daphne Greengrass nudged him in the ribs. "Blaise!"

Blaise shot his ex-girlfriend an injured look before winking at her. He had to admit his ex was still as adorably attractive as when they dated over the summer between fourth and fifth year. Her strawberry-blonde hair now reached her lower back, and she had exchanged her wire-framed glasses for a more sophisticated pair. Daphne smiled back in secret before turning towards her books situated neatly beside her morning coffee.

Blaise answered his friends' unspoken question, "Look, at least I get to sit among interesting company for the evening while you bores complain all night back in the common room. I hear McLaggen's got a thing for Granger now. That should be interesting to watch, especially since her boy-wonder, Potter, is going to be there."

Pansy's eyes widened comically and Blaise bit back the urge to roll his eyes as she soaked up the newest piece of gossip. "Cormac McLaggen's fancies the mudblood Granger?! You  _cannot_  be serious!"

Even though Blaise confirmed to Pansy that Cormac did indeed fancy Granger, it was Draco's reaction that caught his eye the most. His friend had completely stopped chewing his breakfast and looked as if he was working his jaw around a mouthful of rocks. Color crept up Draco's neck as he poked his tongue in his cheek and swallowed.

Draco took a swig from his goblet before speaking again, as the color slowly receded from his neck, though it was still visible to Blaise' perceptive eye. "The louse McLaggen? Has he worked his way through all of Gryffindor already?" Draco quipped. Blaise had to give Draco credit for trying to push nonchalance into his words, but his friend was slipping.

"Apparently," Blaise gave back, raising a brow. "Couldn't keep his eyes off her since the beginning of the year, from what I hear."

"Huh. Is that so?" Draco questioned.

"Cormac is too good for the likes of her," Pansy spat as she turned calf eyes towards the tall blond sitting across the room. She quickly straightened her back as she wrapped an arm around her ex-boyfriend, leaning her head onto his shoulder. "But he still doesn't compare to you, Drakie."

Draco pulled his arm out of her grasp. "You're embarrassing yourself, Parkinson." Chuckles could be heard down the table as Draco stood from the bench. "I'll catch you guys later." Grabbing his satchel, Draco left with the excuse of getting to classes, although Blaise had a sneaking suspicion that he was not heading towards morning classes just yet.

Making a lame excuse about forgetting something back in the dorm, Blaise left a minute after Draco and traversed down a corridor he thought his friend had taken. After Blaise made a second right with still no blond head in sight, he almost gave up, but stopped short as he came across exactly who he was looking for.

Blaise jumped around the corner, so sure he had been caught, but when no shouts of alarm came forth, he pushed his head around the corner. A smug smile grew at the sight.

There, just twenty paces down the corridor, stood Draco. The hand that held the Malfoy family ring was placed firmly on the wall right above the head of one Hermione Granger. From the fierce, rigid lines of his back, he looked to be holding in a barely contained rage as his jaw worked in short movements. Blaise could not tell what Draco was saying from his vantage point, but their body language said more that their mouths ever could.

Draco stood foreboding in Granger's personal space, blocking her escape. His body all but pushed her's against the wall as flushed stains swept up her neck and face. Granger, who was just as livid at whatever Draco was saying to her, jabbed her finger straight into Draco's chest, her finger emphasizing her response. There was no fury to throw him off of her, no surprise from her touching him. No wands were drawn at each other or jinxes thrown.

After the tense moment passed, Draco's free hand came up to grab the hand that was stabbing into his chest. His hand enclosed around her smaller one, effectively stopping her assault. Blaise watched their combined anger wane as Draco's head dropped to her neck. Whatever he was saying to Granger's ear had her eyes widening briefly. As Draco pulled back, she turned her head towards his and whispered something that instantly had the hard lines of fury softening. The ready-to-attack stance of Draco's body relaxed before Blaise's eyes.

Blaise watched the intimate moment, enthralled as Draco let go of Granger's fingers and used his free hand to trace a finger across her cheek. He lifted her chin before slowly lowering his head to hers, the hand on the wall straining to grip the smooth surface. Her eyes closed and by the time their lips met, Blaise whirled around the corner, his heart pounding wildly. What the  _fuck_?!

Leaning his head against the cool wall, Blaise struggled to process what he had just saw. Draco and Granger were … they had just … and all of sudden, the clues that had presented themselves at breakfast were so apparent now. Of course! Why did he not see this before? Was Draco Malfoy was actually jealous? But more importantly, when in the  _hell_  had Granger and Draco become so close? The new school term was not even a quarter of the way in.

Knowing he had something to hang over his mate's head, Blaise spent the rest of his day smug as he quickly plotted out the best way to reveal this to Draco. While taking notes during Charms, he actually had the gall to catch Draco's eyes and wiggle his eyebrows. The blond just looked at him like he was crazy before returning back to his work. Blaise laughed out loud in response, which he promptly regretted as it cost Slytherin House points. By time he caught Draco's eyes again, the blond was even further agitated.

Advanced Potions after lunch proved to be not as entertaining as Blaise initially thought it would be. Both Gryffindor and Slytherin had class together, and Slughorn's lecture on brewing Veritaserum could not stop the real action going on between the aisles. McLaggen had taken to following Granger around, asking her mundane questions about proper brewing cycles. Potter, her bodyguard, kept an eye on the bloke, but said little as he returned to his worn copy of Advanced Potions. As Granger and McLaggen settled in as lab partners, Weasley seemed to be more interested in that Brown bint than whatever Granger was up to.

But it was Draco's posture that held his interest. His friend had not paid attention to anything Slughorn had said. Oh, he carried an air of aloofness and pretended not to care, but the stiff lines he displayed in the hallway crept back into his features as he glanced over to Granger and McLaggen. McLaggen was not daring enough to touch Granger in class, but every smile he threw her way, sent Draco's mouth into a deeper frown.

Draco's hand started to crush the quill under his mounting anger and before he could actually snap it, Blaise leaned over to Draco. "Are you okay, mate?"

Draco blinked steely grey's, slow to acknowledge him. "What?"

"You're making a scene," Blaise whispered conspiratorially, careful that his housemates did not overhear.

Disbelievingly, Draco replied, "No, I'm not."

Blaise looked vaguely around the room. "Look, I get that you and …" he lowered his voice even further, "…  _a certain know-it-all_  … want to keep things under wraps, but making a scene in class is the first step in doing the exact opposite."

That seemed to do the trick as Draco redirected his gaze from the pair and swung narrowed eyes at him. All the anger Draco currently reserved for McLaggen was thrown upon Blaise fully. "You and me. We're talking after class," he remarked coldly, the threat received. Even though the icy tone had startled Blaise a bit, he did exactly what he had intended to do. Now aware of his unchecked anger, Draco tampered it down for the rest of the afternoon. Blaise did not miss the accusing glances Granger and Potter seemed to throw his way for the duration of the class. He suddenly grew paranoid that they could hear exactly what he had said to Draco, despite that Daphne and Pansy next to him could not.

After class dismissed, everyone filed out while he and Draco took their time gathering their things. Blaise caught the not-so-subtle glance Draco gave Granger as she and Potter moved towards the exit. Potter had to actually pull her away, as she seemed hesitant to leave. Then, it was just the two of them left in the classroom. As they walked into the emptying hall, Draco looked once down the hallway before turning icy grey eyes back to him.

"Alright, Zabini, spill it." Draco grabbed his cloak in a fist.

Blaise pushed Draco's hands off of his cloak. "First, take your hands off of me. I'm not some lackey you can order around." The warning in his voice was clear. "And second, you and Granger should be more mindful of where you two decide to get cozy. The middle of an empty hallway, mate?" His voice was incredulous. "Draco, the entire school could have known by dinner. You're lucky it was me who saw you and not one of the Patil twins!"

Draco pinched his nose in regret, his eyes closing before stepping away from him. "Well, I take it you're not one of the Patil twins, then?"

"If you mean am I going to go gossip across the school, then no. But seriously?! You and Granger? Does your-"

Draco cut off his inevitable question with a warning of his own. " _No one_  knows about this! And that's the way it's going to stay, are we clear?"

Blaise reluctantly nodded, a frown on his face. "Crystal. But I don't know how you plan to 'keep this secret' if McLaggen keeps trying to court Granger. If it was me …" His sentence fell off abruptly as Blaise drew his arms about himself. Despite his wool cloak firmly in place, the very air had dropped twenty degrees. It felt as if the Arctic Circle had just opened up in the dungeon hallway. He knew it was cold in Hogwarts' dungeons, but the very air felt made of ice. "Salazar's rod, did it just get cold in here, or is it me?" Blaise wondered aloud. As he voiced the question, the air returned to a comfortable cool that was typical for the dungeons. The entire experience was disconcerting.

Draco sighed. "Look, you're going to Slug's dinner party tonight, right?" Blaise nodded. "Just … just keep an eye on her for me, yeah?"

"And what exactly are you two doing here?" he mused to his longtime friend. "Have you thought this thing through? Is this some sort of fling? Some forbidden fantasy you want to fulfill?" Questions poured from his brain at rapid speed. Something told him Draco had been hiding something. He just didn't know that this 'something' had the potential to the blow lid off a very unstable cauldron. Too many moving pieces told him that a war was coming, and sides were quickly being drawn with each passing day. While he wasn't sure of his place in all of this yet, he knew Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were squarely on opposite sides of the fence. Surely, his friend knew this already.

"Fuck, Blaise! I don't have all answers right now, and the ones I do have the answer to, I can't share them with you! Just do this for me as a favor, alright?"

That was news to Blaise and he filed that information away from later use. But knowing he was unlikely to get answers at this moment, Blaise reluctantly agreed. As they walked towards the Great Hall for study hall, Blaise asked quietly, "Does she know, Draco?"

Resigned, Draco responded with his own question, "Know what, Blaise?"

A roll of the eyes. "The extent of your feelings, you twit."

There was a pregnant pause before Draco answered, "No."

Blaise nodded his head as he took this in. Great. He was going to stick his neck out there for his friend's fling. And said fling had no clue how he really felt about her. Just great. The two walked towards the entrance where other students were already beginning to file in. Blaise had one last parting shot before they joined their fellow Slytherins, "You owe me, Malfoy. Big time."

* * *

Blaise had to give it old Slughorn; he really knew how to throw a party. As he sat around the table, he took in the other distinguished guests. Besides himself, also in attendance were Hermione Granger, Cormac McLaggen, Ginny Weasley, and Melinda Bobbin. Blaise had learned early in the evening that Harry Potter had declined to join the party tonight as not to hurt Ronald Weasley's feelings from being left out. Bloody Gryffindors and their sensitivities. Conversation around the table was light as everyone explained a little about their family background while Slughorn pressed here and there for further details.

As dinner concluded, the group broke into side conversations. Blaise milled about the room picking up interesting tidbits of information. While McLaggen and Slughorn discussed Cormac's family business and connections, Blaise overheard part of a conversation between Granger and the Weaselette. It seemed the youngest Weasley was cross at Potter's blatant ignoring of her person as she sought advice from Granger on what to do about it.

"Ginny, I'm sure Harry is dealing with a lot at the moment," Granger replied, hesitantly. "You know … with everything going on."

"But it's changing who he is! I mean, he's completely ignoring Ron. Outside of Quidditch practice, they hardly speak.  _I_  can never get a second alone with him!" Ginny complained.

Granger's exasperation bled through. "He's still your friend, Ginny. With Ron, things are still sore because of -"

The Weaselette cut her off. "Yeah, I know…  _him._  I still can't believe the Order let him in. And that you and Harry took his side." The red head crossed her arms, waiting for what she assumed would be an explanation.

Granger crossed her arms as well, her stance set. "I've explained myself once. I don't see a reason to any further." Granger ended the conversation and left a fuming red head in her wake. It looked like all was not well in Gryffindor House and something was fracturing the Golden Trio.

Blaise watched as Granger walked, more like marched, towards the refreshments table, before she was intercepted by McLaggen. The curly-headed blond was trying to appease her mood with some poorly recited poetry. Blaise gagged to himself, thinking Granger would never purposely fall for such a poor attempt. To his surprise, she laughed with him and the two chatted amicably for a moment.

Perhaps, Granger could not see it: the well-placed touches on her arm, the soft smiles, or the lingering hand staying a second longer than needed, but McLaggen was going all-in. Just then, another thought crossed Blaise's mind. And even though it might not have warranted any merit, perhaps it was worth looking into. Perhaps, he had this wrong. Perhaps, Granger did not care about Draco and was using him? Maybe she was the one in for a short fling? Blaise could not put it past her. Even though he knew she was studious and mainly kept to herself when she wasn't hanging with Potter and Weasley, he knew it was always the 'quiet' ones one had to watch out for.

The longer he thought on it while he watched the pair, the more the idea festered. All his mind could focus on was the scene from earlier as Draco hovered over Granger in that empty hallway. Blaise had never been privy to intimate moments between Draco or any of the witches he had courted. The blond wizard was more about using them in a physical sense, than actual courting. Feelings were trifle things the Malfoy heir chose not to deal with, he had told him often. But the amount of jealously displayed at the mention of McLaggen's growing interest, the plea for him to keep an eye on Granger, and the uncertainty his friend had uncharacteristically displayed earlier led Blaise to believe that maybe this was jmore than some 'fling', even if Draco could not vocalize it himself.

Restrained anger gripped him and he interrupted the two chatting about some bloke named 'Shakespeare'. Blaise politely nodded at the two and directed his question at the surprised witch, "Granger, can I have a word with you?"

She hesitated, but replied, "Uh … sure." McLaggen stood there, oblivious to their need for privacy. It was not until Blaise cleared his throat and suggested they move near the patio that he got the point. Once they were away from prying ears, but still within sight of the party, Blaise began.

"I'm surprised Potter isn't here tonight."

Granger nervously twisted her frosted goblet in her hand. "I'm afraid he declined tonight. He may join us next time though." Her eyes regarded him before continuing, "But I find it hard to be believe that you are actually missing his presence."

Blaise snorted. "Hardly. Seeing Slughorn drool over Potter's masterful work in Potions is enough, thank you. Although, I may have tried to get him drunk enough to spill what Quidditch plays Gryffindor is planning, but like you said, maybe next time."

"So, then you needed something else from me?"

Blaise eyed her meaningfully. "McLaggen." He threw his head over his shoulder. "He fancies you, you know."

Hermione laughed outright and shook her head. "Oh please, he speaks like that to every witch in sixth year." However, her cheeks bloomed with heat and Blaise could not help but notice how more attractive she looked because of it.

Doubling down for his friend, Blaise pressed, "I think you're smarter than that. Come on, you had to have seen the way he looks at you."

"And even if that  _is_  true, why is it of any concern of yours?"

Why was it indeed? Thinking quickly, he answered, "Well … I just … I recognize the pursuit, is all I'm saying. Just a friendly warning, Granger," Blaise finished, hoping she received the point. He did not want to let on that he knew about her and Draco just yet. He was doing this for his friend, he reminded himself.

Her brow jumped at the term 'friendly'. Smiling awkwardly, she replied, "Right … Thanks. It's getting late. I think I'll head back to my rooms now."

"I'll escort you to the stairs."

Granger eyed him suspiciously, but nevertheless, allowed him to walk beside her as they made their way outside of Slughorn's quarters. The hallway was dimly lit, but they could see Draco as he emerged from behind a column. Granger shifted beside him. Her anxiety was palpable across the air.

"Malfoy?" she asked, surprise coloring her voice.

"Granger," Draco gave by way of a greeting. His gaze seemed to sweep the length of her, as if he were making sure she was alright.

Sensing his presence was no longer needed, Blaise excused himself, though neither one had the audacity to acknowledge his departure. Their gazes only held room for the other. As he walked passed Draco, Blaise whispered lowly, "You're welcome."

The last thing Blaise saw over his shoulder before turning down the corridor was Draco pulling a complacent Granger eagerly into an empty classroom. The soft click of a door closing behind him informed Blaise that Draco was not about make the same mistake twice.


	11. Chapter Ten

Back in Gryffindor's common room, Harry began to regret not attending Slughorn's party with Hermione. Although Harry tried to pay attention for Ron's sake, his heart yearned to be elsewhere at the moment: a certain classroom in the dungeons, to be precise. Desire bloomed and flourished between his mates across the castle. The call to join them was inescapable. His legged bounced with impatience as he sighed. If this was what Draco had felt when he and Hermione were together, then he could understand.

His mates' desire bolstered his own, but with Ron close by, Harry had no choice but to ignore the feelings pounding in his chest. He gasped as a spike of pleasure coursed through him. Harry cleared his throat and crossed his legs in order to cover the growing evidence of his arousal. Strained hands gripped the arms of a worn chair as he willed his breathing to slow. His mates called to him once more and he fell into the chair, conflicted.

On one hand, Harry had stayed behind to speak with Ron. His best friend was pulling away from him again, much like he had in fourth year. Except this time the chasm seemed to be widening, and hope of mending fences grew dimmer as they approached the Christmas hols. Harry naively thought if he could speak with Ron one-on-one, he might be able to get his old friend to see reason. But the more he tried, the more he was beginning to see what a helpless cause it was.

On the other hand, Harry despised the thought of leaving Hermione alone with Cormac McLaggen. Suddenly, an irritating itch settled between his shoulder blades and he rolled them in effort to break the tension. While Harry knew she would not be alone, an odd feeling still settled in his gut at the thought of her, alone, with  _him_. Unwisely, he had voiced this concern earlier, in hopes of persuading her to stay behind with him.

The ear lashing she gave him still had his ears ringing. Hermione had gone on for nearly ten minutes insisting that she could protect herself, that Cormac was no threat, before marching off muttering something about 'complete Neanderthals for mates.' He knew she wouldn't stay mad for long, as this was par for the course throughout their friendship.

But now, they had now had crossed an unfamiliar boundary into a new relationship, and with it, came the hesitancy to push the boundary or not. This dynamic between them was new and disconcerting. How was he supposed to know what was pushing it or not? At least Harry knew she was safe with Draco for the moment. Actually, more than safe. Again, he was torn with desire to leave the common room. The moment his mates joined intimately played like a soft caress down his back. It was both alluring and jarring, if he were honest.

"Look," Harry sighed, exasperated with the lack of progress made that night. "Don't you think there is the smallest amount of merit to ... Malfoy joining our side?" Harry quickly caught himself before using Draco's first name, even though it came naturally. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he continued, "I mean, he's been a right git to us for the past five years, but he's changing. For the better."

Ron sat across from Harry in their common room, his features twisted with suspicion. "What has he done to convince you? Cause I haven't seen shit else from the ferret!" Ron exclaimed, as he tossed Neville's rememberall into the air and caught it.

Harry ran a tired hand through his hair, sending ebony locks into unruly directions. "For one, he's dropped the name-calling. He hasn't called Hermione  _that word_  since the beginning of the term."

"Are you mental? He still calls me 'Weasel' whenever he sees me!"

"And you still call him a 'ferret'. Come on, Ron. I mean, I know it's hard to accept, but he's a part of the Order now. And has been for nearly four months! How much does he need to prove to you?"

"He's in too deep with the Death Eaters, Harry. Always has been! I mean, his entire family is probably you-know-who's bloody inner circle and after four months, you're ready to proclaim him changed! Ridiculous!" Ron shook his head and sat back in his chair on a huff. "I hate to be the one to tell you 'I told you so' when it all implodes."

Harry reached his limit. He was not about to take someone questioning his mate's integrity, either one of them, while he sat there. He struggled to keep his anger in check and fought against the urge to roll his shoulders again. He closed both of his hands into tight fists. His fingernails pinched his rune. "You know, I've been trying to remain calm during all of this for  _your_  sake," he spoke the warning slowly. "The very  _least_ you could do is give him a chance."

But Ron would not be deterred. "Why should I? He's never given me or any of my family a chance!"

"And that's a reason to hold it against him forever?" Harry countered with his own question. "Believe me, I've had my doubts, but I know that he's on our side. For good now. Does that mean I can just overlook everything he's ever done over the past five years? No. It means I choose to focus on the endgame in spite of it. And the endgame is defeating you-know-who. Once and for all. And if you're not with that, mate …"

"Then what, Harry?" Ron's eyes narrowed. "Then I'm not with  _you_ , you mean? Despite the fact that I've been your best mate since we were kids. After everything that we've been through, you're so quick to write me off?" Ron stood from the armchair, as his control of his anger slipped. "All for  _him._ "

Harry jumped to his feet as well. "Hey. That's not what I meant!"

"Then, what exactly what did you mean?" At Harry's silence, Ron spat, "Yeah, I thought so." The red-head stalked off towards their dorm, leaving an agitated Harry behind. He jerked his shoulders to work the tension out, but fell back in his chair, once more alone with his thoughts.

Or maybe, not so alone.

 _He's a buffoon, Potter,_  Draco offered somewhere from across the castle. Even from a distance, Draco and Hermione could feel their mate's unrest.  _I don't know why you waste your time._

Harry shook his head.  _He's still my friend._

 _Although Draco won't admit it, thanks for sticking up for him, Harry. I know he appreciates it_ , Hermione replied where Draco did not.

_I can speak well enough on my own._

_Guys, please,_  Harry pleaded, his head throbbing.  _I just…..I just need to be alone for a moment._

A hesitation from Hermione.  _Are you sure?_

_Yeah, let's meet in the morning._

_Alright. Good night, Harry._

_Night._

After Harry thought he was finally alone, in his mind, he heard Draco's proffered appreciation,  _Thanks, Potter._

* * *

The following Sunday morning saw Hogwarts' halls quiet as Harry trekked toward the Room of Hidden Things. It had been a while since all three had an opportunity to just  _be_  without eyes trailing them. That morning, Harry called through their bond for them to meet shortly after breakfast in the vast hidden room. Harry was running late as his conversation with Ron had flooded over to this morning. His steps became more agitated as he recalled the parting words that had abruptly ended their conversation.

Dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, Harry pushed through the wide door and quickly made his way through various desks, chairs, and other odds and ends to where Draco and Hermione waited for him. The agitation that surrounded him earlier receded the closer he drew to them. As he neared, Hermione and Draco stood up from their makeshift seat on an overturned chest.

"Glad to see you two awake," Harry began with a gleam in his eye. "I thought you'd be indisposed from last night's activities." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively while Hermione blushed a deep crimson color. She too, wore her Muggle jeans, paired with a blue jumper.

Draco smirked deviously and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Turnabout's fair play." Draco hugged her shoulders, dressed impeccably in a heavy, grey sweater and black trousers.

Harry matched Draco's rogue grin. "I suppose it is. Believe me, it wasn't nearly as fun knowing you two were … well. I spent the entire evening with Ron while you two were busy. Wasn't exactly helpful, you know."

Hermione chortled. Shrugging out of Draco's grasp, she sing-songed, "I told you to come to the Slughorn's party last night."

Harry was quick to notice what Hermione did not: at the mention of Slughorn's exclusive club, a shadow fell over Draco's face.

"Speaking of which, I don't think you should be attending without either Potter or myself from now on," Draco pressed. Harry internally winced and waited for the fallout he knew to be coming.

Hermione was quick. "Excuse me?! Are you implying what I think you are? Do you want to track my every move, then?" Hermione cut scathing eyes at Draco, her tone escalating to warning levels Harry was well acquainted with. It seemed that Draco was in for a rude awakening.

"Not every move," the blond replied, casually. "Just ones that put you in the path of that reprobate, McLaggen." Draco's normally unruffled demeanor was also withering. Harry stood surprised at the flare of protectiveness that erupted within him. He had not previously recognized such emotion before, and the fierceness of it all startled him. He wanted to pull Hermione against him and never let her go. Sharing a brief glance with Draco, he gathered the blond was feeling the same.

"McLaggen?" Harry questioned sharply. "Why? Did something happen?"

Before Draco could answer, Hermione shouted, "No! Nothing happened. But Draco would have you believe that everything ill-toward happened to me last night, when in fact, we were just having  _a friggen conversation_!" She grated the last part at Draco, who stood unaffected.

"I don't trust him, Potter," Draco said simply, turning from the upset witch, who glowered at being brushed over. "I wouldn't put it past him to try something."

Hermione threw her hands up in frustration. "As if I'm completely defenselessl! I can perform spells around you  **and**  McLaggen, if necessary, which it's not. So tone down the caveman act. It's embarrassing!" she directed to a now-fuming Draco.

Harry was not persuaded. While he agreed with Hermione's level of skill, he had begun to notice the interest from his housemate towards Hermione. At the beginning of the year, he thought Cormac was genuine enough; almost everyone in their House came to her for school work assistance at some point or another. But if it was concerning enough for Draco to pick up on, then it had merit. "Hermione, maybe …"

Hermione cut him off with a quick warning. "I know  _you_  are not going to take his side!" she exclaimed, exasperated. She shot Draco a look. "It's nothing more than jealousy raising its white-blond head. Don't feed into it, Harry." Before Harry could finish his telepathic question to Draco, she cut them off again. "And don't talk about this behind my back!"

"Hermione, it's only because we're concerned," Harry spoke to her.

She made a derisive sound in her throat. "I'm asking you to trust me enough to make my own decisions and to take care of myself. The last thing I need are two hormonal beasts masquerading as wizards over something completely platonic," she glanced between them both. "Do you understand?" she asked once the tense moment had settled.

Harry twisted his mouth, clearly not happy. But Hermione's unhappiness would weigh heavy on him if she remained upset as it was tied to his own. "Fine," he reluctantly gave, but not without conditions. "If he tries anything though …" he let the threat hang.

"Then you have my permission to do whatever to your heart's content." She turned towards Draco expectantly.

"Deal?"

"Fine," Draco responded, his jaw working over his frustration. Harry and Draco shared a silent understanding in a brief glance before Draco moved on. "I hope you have a good reason for summoning us so early, Potter."

Harry did not miss Draco's annoyance, and sought to deflect his simmering temper with a smile. "No reason, really. Just wanted to say 'hello'," Harry joked. Draco's mouth dropped into a frown as he crossed his arms, further agitated. Apparently, Draco was not happy with being summoned early on a weekend morning. Harry rolled his eyes. One mate's happiness was not equal to another, he quickly learned. This was going to a delicate balancing act handling the two, but Harry smiled at the challenge, eager to do so. "Still not at the 'joking' stage yet?"

Hermione shook her head, trying to keep from smiling. "Harry, don't be a prat."

"It was a joke," he defended himself as he sat on an old stool. "I know we haven't had a chance to speak freely in a while and I think we needed to. Especially since Voldemort's probably going to want an update soon. It's been awhile since he's contacted you last, right?" Harry directed his question to Draco.

"You know as well as I that it has," the blond quipped, sharply.

Harry exhaled his frustration. He would never get used to Draco's dry sarcasm. On one hand, it annoyed him to no end; on the other, it was quintessentially  _Draco_. Harry supposed he would have to learn to make do.

Draco actually seemed pleased that he had annoyed Harry. He further explained, his smirk clear, "I've been giving updates on the cabinet's progress to Snape, since it's possible for him to leave the school and all. However, Snape's warned me that he's not exactly happy with my progress. He'll want an in-person report soon."

Harry nodded grimly. Draco had informed them earlier that month that he had been tasked with fixing the broken vanishing cabinet deep within the Room of Hidden Things. Voldemort wanted the cabinet fixed so he could launch an assault from within Hogwarts, a feat that had never been accomplished as far as Harry knew. Shortly after, Draco led them to the cabinet's location and the three set a plan in motion. They would assist Draco in mending the cabinet, albeit at a slow pace. They did not want to make it seem like he was failing his task, but in the same vein, they did not want it mended right away. Snape agreed that this was a wise course. Between the three of them, they met at various times over the course of the term within the Room of Hidden Things to discuss their next step, while Hermione and Draco worked on the cabinet.

Voldemort was growing impatient with Draco's seemingly lack of progress, and any effort to stall for more time would further put Draco in harm's way. Harry and Hermione promised that they would never let Draco experience what he had earlier again. And while Harry knew he had not personally inflicted the pain, he still carried the blame as if it were his burden to bear.

"But we can't fix the cabinet right now," Hermione stressed as she sat on the floor. She sat cross-legged, her face pinched in thought. "If Voldemort knows his access into Hogwarts is readily available, who's to stop him from launching an attack right then?"

Draco shrugged. "Snape or myself could let Dumbledore and the Order know when it's coming?" he put forth.

Hermione shook her head. "That's even  _if_  he tells you when it's happening. He could very well not. It's too much of a risk, especially since the students haven't been released for the Christmas hols."

"It would be a slaughter," Harry agreed. "And I doubt the Order could arrive in time to stop it. Okay, so what do we do? Stall again?" Harry could tell that Draco was not pleased with that plan at all. The blond glowered as he sat down on the overturned chest.

"That's easy for you to suggest! You're not the one who has to answer to him."

"Well, what else is there? You can't mean for us to actually fix the cabinet?"

"We need to give him something else," Hermione answered before the boys descended into arguing. Once attention was given to her, she continued, "Some tidbit of information, presumably false, that would compensate for the cabinet not being ready yet. You can say that progress is being made, and hopefully he will be distracted enough not to notice."

"Yeah, hopefully," Draco responded dryly.

"There could be some merit to it, actually," Harry guessed. "We can ask Professor Dumbledore or Lupin for leads. Surely between them and us, we can come up with something to give him. A false lead to a hideout or something?"

"Draco, do you know when you might be summoned?" Hermione asked.

The blond was oddly silent. "My arm," he began tentatively, as he wearily rubbed his forearm, "It's been itching, like something's coming, but I can't be sure."

Harry was perplexed. "You can feel it?" Draco nodded. "Then how come we can't?" Harry gestured between himself and Hermione, who also looked intrigued.

"I've been blocking it for the past few weeks, but it's growing stronger," Draco rolled the sleeve of his sweater up to reveal that the Dark Mark on his forearm. The thick, black edges writhed as it were alive. Draco sneered at the twitch of pain before rolling the sleeve down. "Like I said, it's no use for you both to feel it if you don't need to." Guilt harangued Harry once more. Knowing this was not the time nor place to wade in such emotion, he swallowed it back and plunged onward.

"Right. So, we're in agreement." It was not a question. "We'll get Snape to feed Voldemort false information in exchange for time." Harry looked between Hermione and Draco, who silently agreed.

After a moment, Draco began, "He  _will_  want the cabinet finished. I don't know how much time we can actually buy, but he's determined to attack the school. Soon," Draco stressed, before adding solemnly, "It's only a matter of time."

A matter of time: that was the story of Harry's life. He closed his eyes on a sigh. It was only a matter of time before Harry would meet Voldemort head-to-head in battle and settle what started some sixteen years ago. "I know, Draco." Harry re-opened his eyes and focused bright green eyes on the blond wizard across from him. "I think I know better than anyone."

Hermione stood from her place on the ground. Taking a steadying breath, "If war is really coming, and it seems as if it is, then we'll meet it head on." She looked pointedly between Harry and Draco. "Together," she affirmed.

Draco nodded. "One way or another."

Only Harry did not want Hermione nor Draco in this war's path. If he could have his way, he would keep them away from it all, locked somewhere, without their wands until all of this was over. Maybe he would figure out a way to do this by himself, he thought, as he regarded his mates carefully. A fierce drive of protectiveness overwhelmed him, this time stronger than ever. "Right. Together," Harry quietly agreed.

Hermione inclined her head at Harry, an odd look on her face, before slowly starting, "Christmas is coming soon."

Harry was grateful for the change in topic. The heavy price of war consumed them and grew to encompass their world with each passing day. He would gladly take any distractions he could for the moment.

"Do you know where you're going for the holiday break?" she asked them both.

Harry shrugged, uncertain. "I'd assumed the Burrow, but now, I'm not sure."

"I doubt I'd be welcome there," Draco visibly soured.

"And where will you go? Back to the Manor?" Hermione questioned. She pressed on before he could answer, "We'll find a way to be together over the break," Hermione resolved. She missed the raised brow Draco threw at Harry. When Hermione made her mind up about something, one would be hard pressed to change it. Surely, Draco had to know that by now. Harry chuckled and shook his head, indicating that no response was needed.

As they made their way out of the Hidden Room, their meeting at an end, Harry voiced the question that had been nagging at the back of his mind. He had an unhealthy habit of speaking before thinking. "So Hermione, how is it … with well, you know … uh, I mean, are you using any, uh, protection?" It sounded so much more eloquent in his head.

Hermione chuckled low in her throat. "Do you mean how is it that I'm not pregnant?" Harry nodded as they walked past ceiling-high piles of old paintings, chairs, and brooms. "I've been taking a contraceptive potion since the end of last year. Are you surprised?" she asked to their silence.

"To be honest, I hadn't thought about it until now. I mean I  _have_  thought about it, just not like that. And certainly not during, and well…" Harry trailed off again, as bright red marked its way up his neck. "It's just that there's been  _so much of it_  already." He promptly closed his mouth as the red raced up his cheeks.

"I think because the bond between us was so new ... " Hermione posited. "But I'm not sure. As the bond is cemented over time," she, too, struggled over the appropriate word, "… the physical aspects of our relationship should lessen. Although, it may flare up during certain days of the month." It was now her turn for color to stain her cheeks. She quickly pulled her hair behind her ears.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Ovulation, Potter," Draco replied as the three of them walked in step.

Realization dawned on Harry and he swallowed nervously. Definitely smart of Hermione, then. The last thing they needed in a coming war was to deal with the possibility of a child. As Harry glanced at Draco and Hermione walking in silence, he was unexpectedly hit with an intense emotion that filled him to the brim. He gulped and looked straight ahead. One day, he thought with a ghost of a smile, but not yet.

Reeling from Harry's realization, the three shared an indescribable look that settled in their gut: a sense of finality. It carried with it a vision of things to come.

Hermione cleared her throat gently. "In answer to your earlier question, Harry, I'm a highly logical person." Between them, Hermione intertwined one arm with Draco, and the other with Harry. "I didn't think I'd lose my virginity this year, but there's something to be said for being prepared." Harry did not miss the smile that graced her face. It was one of his favorites, and he could not help smiling with her. Neither could Draco, it seemed. His worries ceased temporarily, as he vowed to hold onto every moment that he could, for as long as he could.

"I suppose that makes sense, then," he agreed as they stepped through the entrance and into an empty hallway.

Draco snorted. "It does make sense that our bookworm's a total nymph." The door closed behind them, but not before a 'smack' could be heard against one white-blond head.


	12. Chapter Eleven

There were two weekends left until Hogwarts was dismissed for the Christmas holidays. A sense of cheer flooded the ancient hallways, but it did not reach Harry as he walked amongst the chatter and cheer. Next weekend was the last Hogsmeade weekend for the older students, and everyone was abuzz with plans of celebrating or buying presents for family members and friends back home.

Light conversation floated around Harry, but he could not hear it. His mind replayed the fraught images over and over as he beseeched his mind to commit every detail to memory while it was still fresh. But of course, that wasn't necessary as he had grown accustomed to using a Penseive. Harry was well acquainted with the magical instrument from his discovery of its existence back in fourth year. Dumbledore was slow to re-introduce Harry to it at first, but as the new school year unfolded, Dumbledore began meeting with him for longer periods of time.

Together, they spent time delving into Dumbledore's earlier memories of a young Tom Marvolo Riddle. Within the static recesses of Dumbledore's memories, Tom was just a young wizard, much like himself, curious about his world, and unsure of where he fit in life. Harry could relate to the aloof feeling from being ostracized at a young age. The same insecurities he saw in Tom, to his horror, reflected in him.

The memory Harry had just viewed was particularly telling. Within it, he found himself privy to a brief introduction between Professor Dumbledore and the young orphan. Inside a cold, dank room, Dumbledore promised to help Tom Riddle control his unexplained magic. He promised Tom would find acceptance among other youngsters who were special just like him, and that Dumbledore would be there every step of the way. The memory ended with Riddle agreeing to attend Hogwarts.

It had sounded so promising.

Harry had pulled out of the Penseive taken aback at the memory.

Dumbledore handed him a piece of candy, which Harry took, but did not open; his mind still tried to process what he'd just saw.

"As you know, it wasn't the last I saw of Tom. Even after his Hogwarts days, I found myself crossing paths with him time and time again." Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his fingers steepled in thought.

"Did you know then, sir? What he was becoming?" Harry asked across the Headmaster's desk.

"Even then, I always maintained that I could help Tom and never failed to extend a hand should he need it. He seemed so lost, yet so driven at the time. It wasn't until later that I knew the reason why." Dumbledore smiled, lost in memory. "The one that got away. But never the matter, it's time to go, my dear boy."

"Yes, sir." Harry stood, ready to exit the chambers. "Happy Christmas, sir," he called over his shoulder.

"And a Happy Christmas to you, Harry."

Their brief meeting replayed in Harry's mind to the point that he could not see where he was going. A person, much shorter than he, collided with him, Harry apologized before he could see who it was.

"It's quite alright, Harry," Luna Lovegood's dreamy voice floated to his ears.

"Oh, Luna! I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."

"Neither did I, apparently. The wrackspurts have been plaguing my vision something terrible," the Ravenclaw explained.

"That's … awful."

Luna shrugged. "Normally, it's not so bad. I believe they're excited about the upcoming holidays like the rest of us."

"Uh ... right, of course! Speaking of, what are you doing? Anything special?"

Luna shyly smiled. It was the kind of smile that said one had a secret, but wasn't willing to share it just yet. "I'm not sure. I was planning to visit a new friend over the break, but we'll see. How about you?"

"Same thing, probably. Visit the Weasleys, Hermione, you know, the gang. You're welcome to stop by, if you want. I can owl you the location. That is, if you're not busy with your friend, I mean." Harry politely ended the conversation before continuing down the corridor, "Happy holidays, Luna."

"Same to you, Harry," she called after him. "Be mindful of the wrackspurts. You have to purge daily as not to incur build-up."

* * *

Nearly one week later saw one-third of the  _ame de loups_  off to another meeting. Draco's steps squeaked beneath his feet as he made his way to the second floor of The Three Broomsticks. It was unlikely anyone would hear the creak and groan of the old wood; the din was through the roof. Students jammed into small booths below, and laughed in camaraderie as they toasted the end of the term. They sang the Hogwarts song with off-key glee as Madam Rosmerta kept pitchers of butterbeer flowing.

The din of the lower level trailed after Draco as he stepped into room number four. The air in the room stilled as his companion warded the room with a myriad of spells and complicated wandwork that were beyond his six years at Hogwarts.

"I'm surprised you're not down there joining them," Draco's Head of House drawled. "Surely, you wouldn't want to miss out the festivities."

"In due time, Professor. You wanted to see me?" Draco sat in the lone chair. Professor Snape, clad in his customary black robes, stood in front of the fireplace.

"I wanted to make you aware that I have made contact. I have passed along the tidbit of information, as discussed. Any update on the cabinet?"

Draco shook his head. "None since we last spoke. I am making progress, but it will require time. But it will be completed." Draco framed his next question slowly, "Did he seem upset?"

Snape emphasized each word, "You have no idea." A pause. "He knows that you have been given an impossible task, but he still expects you to deliver. That you have proved worthy by passing along 'information,' as it were, will keep you alive for the time being."

Draco grimaced as his mouth set into a deep frown. "I look forward to making our re-acquaintance then." Dry sarcasm hung in the air.

"He will not be happy, but he will let you live," Snape responded as if that were something to be thankful about.

Draco wondered then what his Head of House had seen during his years as a double agent? What punishments had he taken for the cause? "How does it feel to know that every day you face him could be your last? I imagine it's not entirely gratifying having the entire Wizarding world thinking you died a traitor. Because that is all they will ever see you as."  _See us as,_ he said to himself.

Snape clasped his hands behind his back, not at all fazed by Draco's accusation. "Only a few will know the truth, but that is not what sustains me. I have found a cause worth dying for. I suggest you do the same. It is the only way to make our life … bearable. Besides, if we do our jobs correctly, then no one will know we were there at all."

"But I will! I want them to know what sacrifices I have given! That  _we've_ given!" Angrily, Draco shot out of his chair. "Why should we be the ones to physically suffer while they 'hide' and 'plan'?"

"Because it is what we signed up for," Snape said simply. "He will be contacting us shortly. I advise you to get your affairs in order." In a flourish of robes, Snape exited the room. Waiting the requisite few minutes, Draco followed behind him.

His festive mood thoroughly soured, Draco marched into the quiet streets of Hogsmeade seeking to distance himself from the ignorant students. Did they not know a war was coming? The wind bit sharply as he pulled his woolen robe closer to his person.

The sound of raised voices close-by pulled Draco from his brooding. He looked up to see Ronald Weasley, Harry, and Hermione standing a few meters away. Draco longed to be close to them. Again he wondered, why should he the one to hide? His conversation with Snape funneled back to finding something to sustain him. Something worth fighting for.

Well, what he fought for was currently being harassed by the arse McLaggen. The beginnings of a growl erupted from the back of his throat as he watched the cad shamelessly flirt with Hermione.

McLaggen said something that had Weasley turning red, either in anger or embarrassment, Draco couldn't tell. Harry, however, had enough, and shoved McLaggen rather roughly.

The blond boy laughed as Hermione stepped in between McLaggen and Harry. She pleaded with Harry before forcibly turning their group away from a taunting McLaggen and back towards the path that led them to Hogwarts.

"I'll see you at the party later tonight, Hermione!" McLaggen called after them.

Draco lagged a few paces behind the trio. When he walked past McLaggen, Draco rather rudely knocked shoulders with the smirking boy. "Something funny, McLaggen?" Draco sneered.

"Nothing that concerns you, Malfoy. You don't do Mudbloods remember?"

Draco rounded on the blond wizard, teeth bared, as a bristled feeling crept up his back. Draco tightened his fists in the boy's robes. "Watch what you say, McLaggen. Someone may get the wrong idea," Draco spoke lowly.

"What's it's to you?" McLaggen spat at him.

Draco wanted to reply with his wand, he really did, but Blaise pulled him away. "Come on, Draco. He's not worth it. His daddy's almost as influential as yours. He'll have us both thrown out, and I'm not about to be expelled for jumping in to save your sorry arse."

"Who'd said I'd lose?" Draco allowed Blaise to pull him away reluctantly.

Daphne joined them as they made their way back into the castle and Slytherin's common room. Their small group was quiet with heavy thoughts until Blaise signaled to Daphne that he needed 'wizard time' with Draco. She left the two with a promise to return shortly. Hours later, the two wizards had settled comfortably, the fireplace low and crackling.

"I assume you still haven't told her yet?" Blaise asked arrogantly.

This was beginning to grate on Draco's nerves as he tossed the now empty flask back to Blaise. "I don't know what you're talking about, Zabini," Draco feigned boredom in a tone that clearly said 'not now.' A few first years hung about, sad to leave their new home for the mundane. It had been hard on him that first year too, Draco recalled. And while he did not begrudge the younger students for lingering longer than needed, he was not about to discuss this, of all things, with others around them.

"Right. And my mother has only been married once," Blaise deadpanned. "Everyone's leaving tonight, besides a few staying over the holidays. You mean to tell me a whole term has gone by and you haven't said one thing to her yet? Mate, I'm shocked. She must have you whipped."

Draco narrowed his eyes and refused to dignify his friend's response. "Look, not everyone moves as fast as you do. Whatever I do, if I choose to do so, is on my own terms. Not yours or hers." Draco ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Hers?" A soft voice asked behind them. Draco's sensitive ears picked up light footsteps before they approached. Blaise, now seeing who the voice belonged to as she entered the room, greeted Daphne Greengrass. Her hair was piled into a messy twist and she was dressed comfortably in a winter sweater dress.

"Anyone I know?" she prodded with a grin. Daphne sat next to Blaise on the large leather sofa that adorned the Slytherin common room.

Draco cut accusing eyes to Blaise as if to say 'I told you so', before regarding Daphne carefully. "No one in particular. Your boyfriend here is being a right arse."

Daphne blushed and pushed her glasses up her nose while Blaise shifted in his seat. Draco knew without a doubt that Blaise and Daphne were no longer seeing each other and hadn't been for some time, but it was the least he could do to get the bloke back for putting him on the spot like that.

Draco sat forward at Daphne's and Blaise's clear uneasiness. The two shifted awkwardly in their seats at what should have been just good-natured ribbing. Their reaction was more than what was called for. His heightened senses took note of their accelerated heart rate; it was enough to give Draco pause. Fascinating. Were they still interested in one another? After all this time? Draco raised a teasing brow to the pair as Daphne cleared her throat and tried to clear the air.

"Draco, you know that statement is inaccurate." Daphne's hands played across her lap. "Blaise and I are no longer dating. I believe Luna Lovegood of Ravenclaw has that honor now." She tilted a questioning head to the dark Slytherin beside her.

Another eyebrow rose to join the first. This  _was_  news! "Seriously? You're dating Loony Lovegood?" The glee was hard to miss in Draco's voice.

Blaise snapped in warning, "Don't call her that. She's smarter than what most people give her credit for." He addressed his next statement to Daphne. "And actually, we've only been on three dates. I hardly believe that counts as 'dating' in the sense of the term."

Daphne smiled. "For you, I guess that's right."

Draco regarded this bit of interesting news before a sudden shift jolted through him. His hand flew to his chest and he squeezed the fabric of his grey pullover in between tight, red fingers. He swallowed around a quickening pulse as his heart hammered against his chest cavity.

What the hell had just happened?

His body lurched again, and this time it was enough for Blaise and Daphne to notice. Both turned questioning eyes to Draco, who sat on the edge of his seat, frozen, as his body simmered and hummed. His rune began to burn on his hand. It wasn't the cool pull of fire he was accustomed to since that night in the Room of Requirement, but now, it burned as if fire licked against the inside of his skin. Painful and unrelenting, it throbbed against his palm. His fingernails dug into pale skin as the rune began to glow.

Draco brought his palm eye-level to study it. Sure enough, the Rune of Courage was outlined in bright red lines. No amount of squeezing dulled the pain.

"Draco, what is that?"

Draco heard the alarm in Daphne's question, but he could not respond as fire spread out from the rune. It quickly raced up his arm and across his shoulders. The pain rippled in waves down his back as he fell writhing to the floor. A jagged yell tore from his throat as Blaise and Daphne fell to their knees beside their friend.

He thought the cold floor of the dungeon would be enough to tame the fire, but even ancient stone was not enough to dispense the intense heat beneath his skin. He kicked and struggled against it as the flames licked across his ribcage. He heard more than he felt the distinct sound of bones breaking and shifting. Pulling into himself, he curled into a tight ball as Blaise and Daphne shouted frantic questions that sounded far away.

Daphne had tears in her eyes as Blaise shook him, but Draco felt nothing. Then, as quickly as it started, ice cold water poured over him; or, at least, that's what it felt like. The 'water' washed over his face and down his back before spreading across his prone form; it chased away the burning sensation, and briefly, relief took hold. After harrowing moments, Draco sat up, uncertain,n how to appease his friends' worry. He had no clue how to even begin, but at minimum, he wanted to let them know he was alright.

But when Draco lifted his eyes, he found pure horror on their faces. Blaise and Daphne scooted back on their knees, their fear palpable. It wasn't until Blaise drew his wand and pointed it at him that Draco became utterly bewildered.

Draco opened his mouth to ask what the hell Blaise was doing when a pathetic whine escaped in his place of his normal tenor. What the bloody hell?

Draco shook his head and looked down to the ground. Four silver-white paws were in place of his hands and feet. He had paws that were covered in silver fur and decked with sharp claws! Draco looked frantically back up to Blaise and Daphne, who had made their way to their feet. Blaise's wand was still fixed upon him.

Draco tried to speak again, but a yapping sound came forth. Panic gripped him and before it could sweep him away, he heard Harry's desperate call within his mind.

_Draco!_

_Harry! What the hell is going on?! Something's happened to me._

_I know. I can't explain now. I need you outside of Slughorn's quarters. Two halls down. Come quick. _Hermione's in trouble.__

That was all it took and with one last, pleading look to his friends, Draco turned and burst from the common room. It took some adjustment to run on all fours, but after the first stumble or two, he got the rhythm of it easily enough. He was pretty sure he frightened a second year to death. Her high pitch scream rebounded off his now sensitive ears. Draco plunged past her and through their doorway. He was quick, faster than he had ever been on a broom as he pushed himself within his new body, yearning to explore his newfound abilities to the max.

He was a wolf?! A bloody wolf. He knew it to be true even though he hadn't looked in a mirror just yet; he had seen the nimble paws, the silver fur. Draco could feel the elongated canines within his mouth and he could smell  _everything_. Where he was sensitive to certain smells before, now he could smell the remnants of supper all the way down in the dungeons. He could smell the rank potion ingredients in the classroom two levels above him. And just there. He could smell them. Harry and Hermione, and nothing more smelt like home.

He actually had to look down to make sure he was still running on the floor. He could barely feel the surface beneath his paws, he was running so fast. But with the new sense of elation, there was something else. He could smell fear, he could smell anger, and came from Hermione. Something had happened and without even questioning it, he let the natural instincts to protect take over.

It was like opening a door that had always been there. That door that separated humanity from the animals, and grounded one to a moral center.  _He_ was still there, of course, but he was different. The dichotomies would have to wait, however. The only thing that mattered now were protecting his mates, and making whoever had trespassed against them pay. He wanted to sink his teeth into something deep, and tear and bleed. He shook his head clear of the mental images flooding his brain.

As soon as he rounded the corner, the smell that was distinctly theirs exploded in sharp contrast. There was one second to scan the hallway, and what he found made his blood boil. Hermione had her wand raised to McLaggen's neck; her other hand yanked at the neck of one ebony-colored wolf.

Said wolf growled and gnashed it's teeth for a chance to tear into the quivering wizard. Only Hermione's grip on the wolf's neck kept him from doing so. Draco immediately saw why and as he stalked slowly toward them.

 _Wait!_  Hermione implored through their link.

His mate's hair was in disarray. She had obviously done it up from the evening, the last of Slughorn's parties before the holiday break. But now errant curls fell across her neck as evidence of a struggle. She wore a simple red dress with a modest neckline. One shoulder of the garment had been torn to ruin. A reddening hand print bloomed across one cheek and tears of anger or hurt, Draco could not tell, fell from her eyes. Draco growled outright at what McLaggen had obviously tried and failed to do to his mate. White-hot anger blinded him, but he halted at Hermione's insistence.

Draco took to stalking around McLaggen anxiously, waiting for Hermione's cue. He licked his lips at the thought of tearing into him. Hermione tethered her hold on Harry, who snapped his jaws inches from McLaggen's knees. Hermione's order kept Harry from permanently maiming the boy.

Hermione pushed her wand deeper into Cormac's neck and was rewarded with a whimper as the blond wizard shook with trepidation. She whispered through tears, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't let them have you." She looked to the ebony wolf held by her hand and the silver one circling behind her. "I imagine they would love to tear into you right about now."

_Yes!_

_Let us have him, Hermione!_

Fear bled through McLaggen's eyes as he appraised the witch in front of him. "They're yours?" he asked incredulously.

"In every sense of the word," Hermione promised through her teeth. A small red scratch burned under her eye, marring her pretty look for the evening. With a non-verbal spell, Hermione blasted McLaggen into the stone wall behind him. His head smacked off the wall from the force of the impact and he slid to the floor on a wounded grunt.

Hermione stood above him while he moaned in pain. The ebony wolf flanked her right side and while the silver wolf came to sit on her left. "You have three seconds to get your sorry arse out of my sight before I sic them on you. You're to go straight to the Headmaster's office and tell him what you've done." Her next words dripped with warning, "If you don't, and believe me Cormac, I  **will**  know if you don't, I will send my wolves after you. And this time, I won't hold them back. Are we clear?" She watched as cold dread seeped across handsome features before he nodded quickly. "Then leave."

As fast as he could with a limp and a bruised back, Cormac stumbled down the corridor.

 _What the hell was that?_ Draco swung around to face her once McLaggen was out of sight.

 _Why didn't you let us at him?_ Harry paced back and forth, agitated.

Hermione spoke out loud, too mentally drained to speak through their link. "Who knows what might have happened if you bit him? I couldn't risk the chance of us getting found out or worse, something happening to either one of you," she spoke to the wolves beside her. She dropped a hand and ran light fingers through Harry's neck and then repeated the action with Draco. While the action was soothing, it was not enough to calm the internal rage that had been building. Draco chose to direct it at Harry. Hermione had been through enough already.

 _Potter, what in the_ _ **fuck**_   _happened? You were supposed to watch her tonight!_

Harry matched Draco's intense stare as the two squared off.  _They disappeared while I was speaking with Professor Slughorn. As soon as I felt her fear, I knew something had happened. I would have handled him, but you saw Hermione holding me back._

"Guys, please don't turn this into a fight," Hermione spoke in between them. "It's been a rough enough night as it is!"

"Who are you telling?!" A new voice entered the fray as all three snapped to the other end of the hallway where a disbelieving Blaise and Daphne leveled their wands at trio.

Hermione mouthed a soft curse and dropped her wand arm slowly, indicating she would not fight back in defense. Not that she would need it; her defense stood protectively at her legs at the moment. "This isn't what it looks like," she tried for reassurance.

"What the fuck is it then?! There is a large black wolf standing next to you and the other," Blaise swallowed heavily, "I'm pretty sure used to be my friend, and you're just standing there as if nothing happened." Blaise took a hesitant step towards her, but promptly froze as the wolves beside her growled in warning.

"Stop!" Hermione implored, raising a hand to halt his movements. "Just stay where you are! Things are still a little unsure, and I don't think they want anyone near me right now. So, just … please." She made a motion with her hand for Blaise to retreat, which he did slowly.

Blaise took in her appearance. It was obvious that someone had roughed her up as she looked on the verge of tears. He nodded sharply, giving in for the moment. "They mean you no harm, then?" He threw his head to the large beasts eyeing him and Daphne warily.

"No, I swear it, I'm fine. Just please, go."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what the hell you did to my mate." Blaise raised a disbelieving hand and pointed to the wolf with silver eyes. "I know it's him. He fucking  _changed_  in front of Daphne and I in our common room. I couldn't believe it, but after the shock wore off, we followed him here … to you. "

"Is he under some sort of spell?" Daphne wondered, her voice shaking out of fear for her friend. "Because we'll go straight to Professor Snape and Dumbledore if he is," she promised.

Before Hermione could answer, the ebony wolf next to her pushed to his haunches and changed back to the boy-who-lived-but-was-also-apparently-a-wolf. Harry stood to his full height beside Hermione and pushed his glasses up the brim of his nose.

"No one is telling anyone  _anything_ ," Harry swore. He glanced at Draco, who remained in wolf form and sighed. "Let's move this out of the hallway before someone else sees us." He quickly led the small group into a darkened classroom and instructed Hermione to seal and soundproof the room.

Once Hermione had done so, he grabbed her hand and led her towards a chair. "Sit down before you collapse." Before she could protest, he gently placed her in a seat. "Please, I don't want to upset you anymore tonight." Harry quickly cupped her cheek, mindful of the red welt beneath her eye. Sighing again, he ran a thumb across her lip before pulling the hand away.

The silver wolf laid it's head in Hermione's lap. She smiled before gently stroking it's head in return.

Blaise, however, did not miss the intimate moment between the two Gyrffindors. "Just what the hell was that?!" He crossed his arms on a huff, standing opposite of Harry, Hermione, and the wolf Draco. "Are you encroaching now on Draco's territory, too, Potter?"

"I am not anyone's territory!" Hermione quickly gave, infuriated. She would have jumped up, but Draco's large head weighed her down. Realizing she could do no more, she crossed her arms, which Draco licked in reassurance.

Blaise ignored her and stared down Harry. "I'm well acquainted with the look and touch you just gave her. Nothing about that says just a 'friend' to me."

Bewilderment colored Harry's face. "What are you on about?"

Daphne piped up as the conversation unfolded, "You mean the 'her' you were referring to earlier? It's Granger?" she asked, amazed. She struggled to keep her mouth from falling open. "As in Hermione Granger?"

Instead of responding to Harry, Blaise swung a heated gaze to Hermione. "I saw you two in the hallway, Granger. Several months back. You and Draco looked to be pretty comfortable with each other. It was only after I spoke with my friend, here, that he confirmed it. Do you deny it?" Hermione opened her mouth to speak. "Unless you're just dragging McLaggen, Draco, and Potter along — " Quicker than he could finish, Blaise found himself backing up against a desk frantically. He found himself face-to-nozzle with an angry white wolf. Lifting onto the desk, he stared at his 'friend' and decided to halt his insulting line of reasoning.

"I think you'd better apologize to Hermione, Zabini," Harry smirked, not at all fazed by the insinuation. "Unless you want to be forever known as a cripple."

Blaise frowned deeply as he looked between the angry wolf with glittering snowflakes for eyes, and Hermione seated across the classroom. "I won't apologize for sticking up for my friend, if that's what you mean." Blaise stared into the wolf's eyes; gone were the pale greys he knew to be Draco's. "Excuse me for sticking up for  _you_!" The wolf seemed to roll his eyes before making the decision to let up on him. Once Draco settled his head back into Hermione's lap, Blaise exclaimed, "You're okay with this?!"

Daphne, ever astute, looked between the three. Hermione stroked Draco's head, while Harry rubbed one hand across her bare shoulder. In fact, neither wanted to cease contact with the witch since entering the classroom. "I think that they are," she murmured as all eyes turned to her. Daphne was never for much attention. She was a slightly above-average student, but even in the classroom, she was never fond of the spotlight. "They all seem to be very comfortable with each other. More than comfortable, I would imagine."

The three shared a glance Blaise and Daphne couldn't decipher. Blaise recognized the faraway look as they looked between each other. He had recognized such a look on Draco many a night back in their dorms.

"I need an explanation," Blaise replied, suddenly confused. "A serious explanation."

The three seemed to make a decision and while neither looked happy, Harry spoke for the three of them. "A vow that this doesn't leave this classroom." Blaise nodded quickly. Daphne was much slower to agree, but she did. After a deep breath, Harry continued, "Draco came to me earlier this summer. To give you the short end of it, he has been working with me, Hermione, and a secret Order to defeat Voldemort. No one at school knows except a few of us."

"Draco's family?" Blaise asked Harry, since he could not question Draco at the moment.

"Doesn't know. He's been spying and providing information for us in exchange for protection." Harry grimaced as he recalled how 'great' a protection he had actually provided.

Daphne waved a hand at the wolf, quietly listening, because he couldn't join in. "And the reason you and he are wolves?"

Hermione fielded that question. "We needed a strong spell that would allow us to trust Draco. When he came to us this summer, we had no way of trusting him. I found a spell, a bond, that allowed us to do so." She ran another hand across Draco's silvery fur. "Although, this was unexpected."

Harry agreed, "Among other things."

"So, why is he a wolf?" Blaise pressed.

"Because it was ancient spell for werewolves," Harry answered readily. "I felt Hermione's distress earlier, like she'd called to me. Before I knew it, I'd changed and called for him through our bond when I sensed Hermione was in trouble. She must have forced his transformation. It was unexpected …"

Draco lifted his head as if raising a classic brow at him.

Hermione twisted her head towards Harry. "Speaking of, did you know you could shift into a wolf? The book I found the ritual in said nothing about shifting. And if we were going to shift, why didn't it happen during the first lunar cycle or any subsequent cycle since?"

Harry shrugged. "To be honest, I didn't know. I just knew I had to get to you and then it happened. I honestly didn't know we could. But I was preoccupied with other things at the moment," he admitted.

"Yeah, like how you were about to commit murder." Hermione shook her head exasperated. "Harry, you could have been sent to Azakban or worse, killed. You have to be more careful."

"How do you expect me to be careful when that … that bastard attacked you! You're lucky I didn't rip his throat out!"

"Guys, guys we can discuss your disturbing bloodlust later," Blaise interrupted when he noticed they were beginning to divert away from the primary conversation. "So, how come you," he directed at Harry, "were able to shift back, but Draco hasn't yet?"

Harry looked to the white wolf, who was now looking at Harry expectantly. "I can't honestly say. I just thought it and it happened. I thought the same would happen with Draco, but it hasn't."

"So he hasn't  _thought_  about it hard enough?" Blaise asked slowly, trying to understand.

"Look, I said I don't know! We," Harry pointed between himself, Hermione and Draco, "are still trying to figure out this out for ourselves."

"What did this bond do for you?" Daphne asked, intrigued.

Hermione recounted the increase in magic, senses, and overall stamina experienced in the earlier months after the bond was completed. While she quickly glossed over the increased stamina being linked to the sexual allure of the pack, Daphne did not miss the blush that crept up her neck. Blaise and Daphne were silent for a moment longer.

"And you said this stemmed from a ritual you performed over the summer?" Blaise repeated. When Hermione nodded, he continued, "I want in."

As if he had been silent for too long, just then, Draco shifted back into his human form. He took a moment to right himself as his transformation was not as seamless as Harry's before responding, "Blaise, you can't possibly be serious."

At the same time, Harry replied, "I don't think so."

"Why not, Potter?" The Italian questioned. "If it was good enough for Draco, then why isn't it good enough for me?"

Hermione responded for Harry. Standing from her chair, she dared either of the boys to push her back down. So, she was roughed up a little; she wasn't going to break. "It involves a blood ritual. Not exactly the kind you want to take lightly."

"Are you turning sides now, Zabini?" Draco questioned suspiciously as Harry regarded Draco. Harry never thought he'd see the day where Draco would be standing up for the Light, when just a few months ago, he was questioning Draco's loyalty.

Blaise huffed. "I've actually never been on a  _side_ , Draco. My family plays the part well enough, but I don't want to be a Death Eater. I'm not stupid, I know a war is coming.  _He's_ actively scouting all the noble houses and families for new recruits. You had the right idea when you left for the summer. I know when I return home for the holidays, there's going to be an invitation with my name on it."

"Me too," Daphne spoke up. "My father has been writing my sister and I vigorously over the past few months. He keeps going on and on about 'taking up the family mantle'. I'm sure it has something to do with  _him_."

"It's only a matter of time before he contacts all of the old families," Blaise agreed. "He started with the Malfoys, I assume because he knows of their supposed loyalty. He knows that his followers have children our age and if he's started with Draco, he will continue until he's reached us all. It's a decision you don't exactly say 'no' to."

Daphne shuddered at the thought of refusing Voldemort's offer. There was no telling what he would do to her or her family if any of them refused. They were being pushed to a side before they had a chance to finish school. It was not fair, but it was the world they found themselves in.

"And what could you provide us?" Harry asked.

Hermione pulled on Harry's arm. "You can't actually be considering this! Harry, it's a blood ritual that we couldn't possibly control. We would have to research it."

"I didn't say I was agreeing to it. I'm asking what could be in it for us. It would have to be worthwhile."

Blaise smirked to Draco. "He's got more Slytherin tendencies than you."

"Please. Where do you think he gets it from?" Draco boasted.

"I'm waiting, Zabini," Harry reminded him.

"I can't be sure. But between myself and Daphne, we can get you inside information. What Theo's been up to or where the next revel is being held. Theo loves to brag about what dear old daddy has been up to. Says he can't wait to join him when the school year ends." Blaise made a disgusted face. "But you have to take Daph  **and**  myself." His tone booked no room for argument. "Either both of us or none at all. That's the deal, Potter."

Harry admired that Blaise was willing to put himself out there for his friend. While he couldn't trust the Slytherin entirely, it opened his eyes just a little. They had friends and family they wanted to protect, just like him. Harry could not begrudge them the chance. As far as being able to fully trust them, well the ritual could help in that regard.

 _Hermione, could you dig deeper into the bond? See if you can find anything about bringing others in?_ Harry asked through their link.

Hesitancy washed over from Hermione.  _Harry, I suggest we put together a plan._

 _There's no time for plans, Granger,_  Draco stated.

 _I didn't say we were letting them in just yet,_ Harry informed them both.

_Why, is it because they're Slytherins?_

_Calm down, Malfoy. I meant that I need some reassurances first. I'm actually considering it._ After a pause., _I can't believe I'm actually considering this._

Harry ran a hand through his hair before nodding at the two. "I'll contact you by owl before the train leaves. Be ready, one way or another." With a final nod, Hermione completed the Vow between Harry, Blaise, and Daphne that neither would speak about what they'd learned this evening.

Draco and Harry were finally alone with Hermione. But before they could begin, she cut them off. "I know, okay! Just stow it for now. I know what you're about to say and I just don't feel like going there right now. I just need…" her shoulders slumped as she halted, too emotionally drained from the night's events. "I just …" she whispered quietly, uncharacteristically showing weakness.

Two sets of arms wrapped around her middle and her back: a delicate balance of long, graceful fingers ran over her shoulders coupled with rough, caring caresses that smoothed down her arms. She lost herself within their embrace.

Hermione dried the last of her tears on Harry's shirt and relished the feel of Draco's hands running into her disheveled hair. If only they did not have to hide this away in secret classrooms or Hidden Rooms. If only. She gasped against the ebbing pressure that pooled and built between her legs. If only the entire school could know how happy, how safe these two made her feel. How complete she felt within their arms.

"It's almost Christmas," she whispered between them. "Can we just ... ?" Her unfinished question was left open, but there was no need to finish it as soft lips captured her own. They gently swept over her bruises and kissed away fears. Hands pulled at her dress and suddenly, the damp, cloth barrier between her legs was gone. She gave into her mates' call, utterly glad to let them dominate her body.

The silent wards held well into the night.

* * *

The next day found a once-bustling castle, empty. Without its core reason for existing, the very walls of Hogwarts seemed to mourn the temporary loss of its students.

Harry and Hermione had remained behind, with promises to join the Weasleys at Headquarters for celebrations and gift exchanges. Hermione had wanted to use the extra time to peruse the Restricted Section for prudent information on the  _ame de loups_ , but she and Harry were alarmed by an early summons from Draco that first morning after the train had departed.

It was alarming because they knew Draco was not a morning person and combined with their most vigorous activities last night, they did not expect to hear from the blond, at least, until noon.

Hermione pulled on her Weasley sweater, fashioned with a large, golden 'H', her jeans, and winter boots before heading off to the Astronomy Tower with Harry. The more they ran up the stairs, the more worry began to overtake them. By time they reached the Observation deck, the worry had morphed into cold dread.

Draco rested on the balcony rail, his back to the wind, as if he had been waiting for them when they burst out onto the main overlook. "You are both sorely out of shape," he remarked as he took in their ragged huffing and puffing. Little clouds of vapor danced between the three.

"You weren't saying that last night," Hermione gave back with a wink. But she too, had to rest her hands on her knees as that sentence stole the last of her breath.

Harry was the first to recover. "We just ran up a crapload of stairs for you. What's so urgent that you couldn't tell us over breakfast?" Harry inquired.

Draco rolled his sleeve up. "I've been summoned," he informed them as he pushed the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal the moving tattoo. "It started early this morning, I probably won't be able to stay long. The longer I stay, the more painful it gets. It's probably about a four right now," he guessed as he categorized his pain on a scale from one to ten.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "But... It's too early. You were supposed to come with us to Headquarters first."

"Hermione," Draco interrupted her. "We knew it was coming. I didn't think it would be this early, but we knew it eventually come. It's apart of the game, sweetheart."

Hermione tried to smile, but it ended up half-hearted and broken. "But what about Christmas?"

"I'll report to Voldemort what we agreed upon, he'll bite, and then I'll be free to come back." Draco looked to Harry who remained oddly silent. "I'll be back before Christmas Eve."

"But we are supposed to protect you!" she stubbornly stomped her foot, unhappy that her plans had been abruptly changed.

Draco pulled her into a tight hug. Though he whispered, they could easily hear him. "Over the course of these past few months, I've grown in my magic. We all have. I can shift into a bloody wolf; not that I'll pull that out of the bag right away, mind you. But the point is, you've given me the tools to protect myself. I promise, I'll be safe." Draco reluctantly let go before it became too painful.

He turned and extended a hand for Harry to shake. It was not the way Harry imagined parting ways with the Slytherin before school started. Now, as Harry looked at Draco's pre-offered hand, he realized they could never go back to the way they used to be. For better or worse, this bond had transformed them, more so than any physical change ever could. When Harry clasped his hand around Draco's own, he pulled the surprised blond in for an embrace.

"Come back to us," Harry ordered into his ear. His intent was clear and Draco returned the embrace warmly.

"Whatever you say."

Hermione dug into her pocket and removed a single item wrapped in a white cloth. "I've made a Portkey to Grimmauld Place. Use it if you need to get away quickly." She ignored the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes and forced herself to remember that she would see him again. "I will," she murmured beneath her breath as she placed the portkey in his hand.

"Thanks, Granger. Potter." Holding out a closed hand of his own, he gestured for Hermione to take it. When Hermione cupped her hands beneath his, he opened his hand and two small items fell into the palm of her hand. He tapped the items with his wand and magically enlarged two gifts wrapped in bright silver and green. Hermione laughed and Harry smiled in thanks.

"Happy Christmas, you two. In case, I don't see you … before then."

Draco took a step back before retreating down the Tower stair, ready to join his escort, Snape, off the premises. Long after he'd left, the pair of Gryffindors remained. Harry lifted his arm about Hermione's shoulders. She closed her eyes against the temporary loss of her mate and repeated her mantra to herself.  _I will. I will. I will._

"We'll see him again, Hermione." Harry pressed a meaningful kiss to her temple.

"I know," she whispered as cold tears pinched her cheeks. Snow fell around them and it reminded her of Draco. "Just not yet."

"Hermione," Harry spoke to the quietness. "I think we should look into bringing Zabini and Greengrass into the ritual. Find out what you can, but we're going to need everyone we can get on our side. The more who can accompany Draco to the other side, the more there will be to protect him. They can go where we can not."

Hermione thought his proclamation over and after a moment, agreed. "That does make sense." Just like that, Hermione was back. The wheels turned behind her eyes. "Brilliant idea, Harry! I'll get to the library right away. I'm sure there's something there that could benefit us." She could benefit from the distraction as well. The need to know was already eating away at her. At this rate, how was she supposed to last the four days until Christmas?

Just one thing at a time, she repeated, as Harry led them out of the cold and back down the Tower steps. Go to the library, find out more about the ritual, figure out to bring Blaise and Daphne in without the Order getting wind off it, and then meet up with Draco at Headquarters because she  _was_  going to see him again. She just had to get through one thing at a time.

_I will. I will. I will._


	13. Chapter Twelve

In the intervening time since Draco had been summoned, Hermione and Harry immersed themselves in their respective tasks: Hermione headed to the now-quiet library to research, while Harry spoke with Dumbledore about allowing Blaise and Daphne to stay at Grimmauld Place during the break.

Although the  _ame de loups_  had yet to reach a decision about whether or not to bring the Slytherin pair into the bond, Harry wanted to secure a safe place for them to stay while school was dismissed for the Holidays. Hermione knew her mate could not bear if something happened because they sent them home to wait. Even if they did not trust the Slytherins fully, if someone came to them for help, who were they to deny them? However, denying them entry into their bond was to another end entirely.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Hermione asked Harry the popular Americanism as she entered their common room. Gryffindor's tower was unnaturally quiet as most students had left the day before. It was nearing evening and a dying fire provided light into the cozy, living area. Hermione dropped three large tomes onto a table before sitting next to Harry; her hand immediately sought his. Rubbing small circles over his thumb, she observed, "You look like you're far away."

"I asked Dumbledore this morning if Blaise and Daphne could spend the Holidays at Grimmauld. I didn't want them to go home. Not after what they told us. I mean, how could I?" Harry's frown matched her slight grimace. "Ron's entire family will be there, however. We're not exactly on speaking terms as it is, and when we show up with two more Slytherins, who knows how he's going to react!"

"Harry, one, it's your house, so he can't throw us out even if he wanted to, and two, it's the right thing to do," Hermione insisted. "I'm sure other members of the Order will be there. Professor Lupin, Tonks, and the others. They can help contain the situation, if need be. And once we explain what's going on, they'll have no choice but to understand." Hermione amended her statement after reconsideration, "Well,  _hopefully_ everyone will see reason." She shook her head. "Maybe." Seeking solace, Hermione pulled in close to Harry. Easily, he accommodated her petite frame against his side. She burrowed against his warmth. "I have a feeling everything is coming to a head one way or another, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Like if I could research the problem hard enough, I could find the answers to help everyone."

Harry sat up, perplexed. "But it's because of  _you_  that we even know of this bond in the first place. You certainly helped Draco, as well as myself."

"And how much good has that done?" Hermione sat up, too. "I've spent the entire day in the library. You would think I would be at peace with the time to myself to think, but instead I spent the entire time worried about Draco. That isn't helping anyone!"

Harry sought to allay her fears. "Hermione? You can still feel him right?"

Dropping a weary head into her hands, she nodded.

"And I can, too. While it may not be ideal, it is enough. We know he's alive." Harry regarded her momentarily and smoothed an errant curl behind her ear. "But what's really the matter?" Because it was written all over her face. He didn't need their bond to tell him that something else upsetted his mate.

Her shoulders slumped as she sighed. Twisting her lips in indecision, she began, "I'm worried about this," she admitted quietly.

Harry's brows scrunched. "Worried about what?"

Hermione gestured to the small distance separating them. " _This_. I mean, if we perform the ritual for Daphne and Blaise, what does that mean for you, me, and Draco? What if it alters something between us?" Hermione stood and began to pace in front of the fireplace, agitation and worry distorted her pretty features.

With worried hands, she recounted what had been building in her head overnight and compounded during her time in the library. "We've just achieved a semblance of normalcy between the three of us. Well, as close as normal as we can possibly get considering no one else knows about us. And we're going to bring in two more? What will happen to  _us_? What if I don't want it to happen? I want Draco to have back-up and yes, it makes absolute sense that Blaise and Daphne accompany him where we cannot, but to what expense?" She suddenly ceased her frantic list of reservations and turned to face Harry. "It's been just us, Harry, for a little over five months." She half-shrugged, before admitting, "I like it."

Harry quickly moved from the couch to join her and took her into his arms. He relished in the ability to do so without the need for secrecy. "I know what you mean. I like it, too. I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. But if anyone could find a way, I know it's you." He kissed her lightly on the nose, before placing a deeper kiss onto waiting lips. The flames from the fireplace danced across her golden skin as he spoke into the side of her neck. "I promise that nothing will change what we have and if it seems to be heading that way, I'll stop it." Running a finger behind her ear, his hand tangled with soft curls.

Tilting her head to meet his, Harry sought her agreement. "Do you hear me, Hermione?"

Hermione heard the words, but she needed more. She called for him and Draco through the Rune of Wisdom, the same as that night with Cormac. Harry groaned into her neck in reply, and it pleased her. She swallowed, saying the words that had lodged in the back of her throat. "Show me," she ordered as tendrils of power tickled along her skin. Somewhere in her subconscious, a woman with sharp yellow eyes laughed in delight.

Harry struggled not to take her right there, as he visibly warred with himself. The delectable thought had merit, and the tower was empty enough. Anyone who remained behind was currently in the Great Hall for the evening meal.

"You and Draco are  **mine**. No matter what happens, Harry. Do you hear me?" Hermione asked as she met his eyes. A whirl of amber flakes reflected on his lenses. Her power bloomed to life as she claimed ownership of the two.

" _Hermione_ ," Harry grated as if her name pained him.

She shivered, too, although for a different reason as she lifted to seal her claim with a kiss. The stirrings of power that tickled along her skin grew to a burning hunger as she drank from his mouth. The allure was more than tempting.

Harry was eager to take her on the floor of Gryffindor's common room. His wolf could not be restrained, not when Hermione's scent wafted around him, and her order compelled him forward. Later, he would later admit he was rougher than planned in disrobing her, but she would understand. The need to feel skin against skin had been too great.

She bit back a moan when Harry finally entered her. With every sink of his hips into her willing body, Harry promised that nothing would deter what was growing between them. Between them, the  _ame de loups_  sang in delight as it knit the very fabrics of their soul together. However, there was another reason for the ancient bond to weep in celebration.

An Alpha worthy of a true triumvirate of power had been found. Pity, her books said nothing about an Alpha being a female.

Hermione felt the truth settle within the marrow of her bones. Her mates would always answer her call: Harry, that first night in the Room of Requirement, and Draco, that night with Cormac. They were the knights to her Queen.

Completely disconnected from her physical body, Hermione watched as Harry burrowed into her. As she stood above the scene watching them, she dimly became aware that she was not alone during this out-of-body experience. Side by side, the witch and the mother of werewolves stood together on the metaphysical plane.

"Do you finally see, child?" the woman with the yellow eyes asked. Both stood captivated by the sight unfolding beneath them. "Do you understand  _who_  you are?"

Hermione nodded, the weight of responsibility firmly set upon her shoulders. "I am their Alpha, just as you were to yours," she acknowledged the truth aloud.

The woman smiled. "Their  _Lupa_ ," she corrected gently. "Their lives are in your hands. As I've told you before, the  _ame de loups_  is not for the weak."

"It is not a power I wanted," she freely admitted, still coming to terms to what she knew to be true in her heart.

"And yet it is yours just the same," the woman replied, before disappearing.

As Hermione sank back into her physical body writhing on the floor in ecstasy, a subtle shift occurred, and she knew she was forever changed.

Hermione grabbed a handful of ebony locks, pulling so Harry's eyes met her own. "My Lycaon," she named him, completely unaware of where the name came from.

Even still, Harry came hard at her declaration. With a groan, he buried his face into her neck as emptied his essence deep within her. She hummed, content, to take his offerings. Moments stretched into minutes as their combined breath regulated. Neither wanted to speak first as the powerful, but quiet moment hung over them.

Never too far away, Draco joined his mates telepathically. The strength of his Lupa's pull would not be outweighed by distance.

 _Not even a full twenty-four hours after I'm gone and you can't wait to shag. Why am I not surprised?_  Draco asked.

Harry chuckled, grateful for Draco's timing, as he rolled over the worn throw rug. He pulled Hermione on top of him as damp curls clung to his chest.  _And if it were you, I'm sure you would have lasted an entire hour._

Hermione would have shaken her head if she had the strength.  _Am I some sort of prize to be haggled over?_

Harry swatted her bum playfully.  _The best prize there is!_

Rolling her eyes, she steered the conversation away from what had just occurred. There would be time to discuss that later.  _Draco, how are you? Has anything happened?_

 _Nothing yet. They had a revel last night, and I'm to meet with Snape and the Dark Lord tomorrow._ Before Hermione could reply, Draco continued,  _I promise, I'll be safe. I did make you a promise, if I recall correctly. In the meantime, you two get back to shagging most ardently. I hope you know, I intend to be compensated handsomely when I return_.

 _I would expect nothing less,_  Hermione agreed, unable to wait for him to be back in her arms.

 _Had you made any headway on what to do with Blaise and Daph?_ he asked.

Hermione responded for Harry,  _We haven't made a decision yet, but we should discuss it when you return. Talking without you here is … perplexing._

Harry added,  _They'll be at Grimmauld, so don't worry about them returning back to their families just yet._

 _Fair enough. I'll be in contact after my meeting._  Draco ended the conversation, though they his presence lingered. It surrounded them like a warm cocoon.

"Harry?" Hermione tentatively asked, her head facing his feet.

"Yes."

"Did you feel something? Just now?"

She could hear the cheeky grin in his reply. "I felt a whole bunch of things, Hermione. Wonderful things." She pinched his stomach.

"Okay, okay. Yes, I did feel something," he admitted as turned her head to meet his.

"I feel the same, yet different. Does that make any sense?" she asked as worry stitched between her brows. "I could still feel my connection to you," she continued despite his smug smirk at her double entendre. "But it was stronger, somehow. I felt 'complete', as if something that was missing finally clicked into place. It felt -"

"Like home," Harry supplied.

She thought over his statement before eventually smiling. "Yes, I suppose that fits. Do you think Draco felt it, too? You think that's why he contacted us just now?" She pulled herself up as she voiced her theory aloud.

"Possibly. Although it may have had to do with something else." Harry's eyes grew dark as a light hand ran down her bare stomach. He parted her lower lips to find her wet and more than ready for him. "And my guess is that he's about to feel it again."

Hermione tried to push away his teasing fingers. "Harry! He's doesn't need to be distracted right now."

"He's a strong enough Occulumens." Harry lifted to chastely brush his lips against her own. "He can block us if he feels the need to." Harry kissed away her retort with a simple declaration. "Besides, my  _Lupa_  has need of me."

* * *

Draco pushed away from the wall as he closed his hand around his rune. He had been purposefully walking behind a group of Death Eaters when the  _shift_  occurred. It was powerful enough to stop him in his tracks. He would have collapsed had not been for the stone column nearby.

He closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing, but his mates made it complicated to say the least. It was not his first time dealing with such an emotion, but the strength of Hermione's pull nearly handicapped him. Draco had felt the two of them alone before, but he'd never felt such a pull, or a release of power like that before.

The temptation to jump to their side was indescribable. But what was scarier was the thought that if he wanted to, he could. No License to Apparate, no means of Portkey, just by sheer thought. Draco lifted his palm to his face and sure enough, the Rune of Courage glowed with power. It itched with unused magic, desperate to be used. He made a fist and pushed the magic back into his veins. This was not the time to be caught.

Closing off his mind after brief conversation with the randy Gryffindors, Draco took a deep breath, intent on catching up with the others ahead of him. Then, a putrid smell offended his senses. His eyebrows drew down in distaste as he froze in alert.

"Come to eat the crumbs off the adult table, Greyback?" Draco asked the darkness. His senses picked up the werewolf inching closer. Draco had to give the hulking werewolf credit: for someone so large, he could move as silent as the wind. Though he could not mask the odor that accompanied him, Draco thought sourly. "Although by the smell of it, I say you've already had your evening meal." Distinctively raw, whatever it was. The animal had been alive when it was eaten.

"Your sense of smell is impressive, young Malfoy," Fenrir said as he stepped into the moonlight, his two lackeys behind him.

Draco knew one to be Kaley Nightingale. She would have been a pretty witch if not for the uncouth lifestyle she had adopted. Her blue-black hair hung in unkempt twists down to her waist. The other was Russell Ballard. He was ten years older than Draco and forever had a chip on his shoulder. He had mousy brown hair and was otherwise, unimpressive. Ballard narrowed his eyes, threw his nose into the air, and inhaled.

"Really impressive," Ballard echoed his Alpha as a shaggy brown brow drew upward.

Nightingale stepped around Fenrir and Ballard as she walked towards Draco. Her tattered robes carried a hint of something floral, as if she had tried to spruce up her appearance. Before this summer, he would have shivered in fear at her predatory glare. Now he stood firm and regarded her with cold eyes.

"You smell pretty," Nightingale hummed in delight. "Got a witch waiting back at school?" she teased.

Draco frowned. Hermione's Portkey to Grimmauld Place was in his front pocket. Her sweet scent, although faint, clung to the clothed item. Even though he knew she was safe at Hogwarts, his protective gear went into overdrive. "None of your business," he replied in warning.

"Ah, so there is a girl!" she exclaimed. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear. He tried to not to lean away in revulsion. " 'Ave you fucked her yet?"

Draco grabbed her hands and pushed her back. "Get the fuck off of me!"

Nightingale laughed, a teasing and disturbing thought behind her eyes. "Why so serious, Malfoy? You can admit it. It's not like I don't smell 'er all over you."

"You haven't smelled the same since you've returned from your little summer holiday," Ballard remarked as he crossed his arms.

"Unfortunately, you smell even more rancid than when I left," Draco shot back.

Ballard rushed forward and pushed the giggling Nightingale out of the way. "You want to watch what you say, Malfoy, or I'll tear you to pieces in front of your mum." Ballard smirked as he watched the red creep over Draco's face. "Or would you rather have it the other way around?"

Quicker than he expected from a regular wizard, Ballard found himself on his back, with an enraged Draco squatting on top of him. His wand dug into the flesh under his chin.

"You want to say that again, Ballard?" Draco spit out. He steadied the magic that gathered in his veins. He couldn't afford a flare up in front of Fenrir's pack. If anyone could sense what had happened to him, they could, and he did  **not**  expect them to keep that tidbit from the Dark Lord. Draco kept his gaze fixed on Ballard. "If you threaten my mother again, I will feed you in spoonfuls to the animal you just slaughtered, do you hear me?" he promised, tendrils of his power crept about the edges.

Just then, Fenrir laughed above him. "You threaten my pack right in front of me? You're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."

Draco let up on Ballard and stood to his feet. He did not sheathe his wand. "And I'd say the same to anyone who threatens my mother."

Fenrir regarded the blond wizard before him. Nightingale eyed Draco like a canary. Her knickers were practically soiled with the idea of taking him for her own, while Ballard wanted to tear into his neck. And yet, the young wizard stood amidst the three of them, wand drawn, not an ounce of fear about him. Fenrir cocked his head. "You  _'ave_  changed." A twisted smile spilt his face. "All grown up now, 'ave we?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I'm not scared of you, Greyback. The Dark Lord may use you as his personal boogeyman, but you don't scare me. Now I believe I have somewhere to be." Turning on his heel, he left the unruly gang in the middle of the hallway. "Although, you may want to bathe before you join the rest of civilized folk," he called behind him.

Fenrir watched as the boy disappeared into dark shadows with ease. Seeing how the Dark Lord had taken over the boy's home, he figured the young Malfoy could slink through the halls as quietly as the Dark Lord could. But there was something else… He possessed an ease of movement that did not come naturally and could not be taught. Fenrir exhaled, deep in thought.

"That fucking brat is going to get what's coming to him one day," Ballard seethed beside him.

Snarling in anger, Fenrir snapped, "Just because 'e got the best of you! If you were strong enough, you would 'ave anticipated it!" Ballard lowered his head in submission, thoroughly chastised.

"I think he would be an asset to our pack, Fenrir," Nightingale cooed next to him. Her large green eyes beseeched him for the opportunity to turn the young Malfoy. "You can smell the quiet strength he possesses. Think of the possibilities," she offered, excited at the prospect.

"No way! He needs to be taught a lesson in submission first," Ballard argued beside her.

"And you think you're the one to do it!?" Nightingale scoffed. "He had you on your back a moment ago. Fenrir, give me the honor and I'll have 'im eating out of our hand in no time."

Growling outright, Fenrir tightened his grip around Nightingale's neck. Both hushed their arguing as Nightingale's eyes grew large in abject fear. Neither wanted to upset their Alpha. "If anyone is to do any turning, it will be me. You best remember that." Fenrir released her and she staggered to the floor. Even Ballard did not come to her aid. "Although your proposition does have its merits. We'll look into it later. But come. The Dark Lord is waiting for us."

* * *

Hermione removed her winter coat and hat as they entered 12 Grimmauld Place. Its current occupants, Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour, looked up from their conversation. Their gaze traveled to Blaise and Daphne behind her as they entered through the door next. They were only a day in and things were going well. Harry had brought Blaise and Daphne to Grimmauld Place the day before, deciding that it was to better to air any concerns before Christmas. Once he'd established their reasons, there had been initial grumbles and distrustful looks, but not the all-out war they had been expecting earlier.

The Slytherin pair did not carry as much disdain as Draco Malfoy. Their arrival at Grimmauld Place was received with little to no fanfare at all. Awkward conversations came with not knowing one another. Whenever the duo tried to interact with members of the Order, they were met with reluctant stops and starts. Only Tonks seemed to genuinely get on with the pair, but she was currently on a visit to the Ministry while Lupin rested in their room upstairs.

"It's awfully quiet in here," Hermione observed as she stored her coat.

"Mum's taken the family to Diagon Alley for last minute gifts," Bill answered. "Fleur and I are about to join them. Everyone else is either at the Ministry or working. Want to come with?"

Harry removed his hat and tried to straighten his unruly locks. "No thanks. We've just come from out there. It's brutal."

"Perhaps we will 'ave snow for Christmas, no?" Fleur smiled timidly.

"It does seem probable," Daphne agreed politely. "Thank you for the invitation." She looked to Blaise expectantly. "But I think we will retire early for the evening."

"Suit yourself." Bill shrugged. After a quick farewell from the Floo, the odd group found themselves alone.

Daphne cleared her throat. "I'll see if I can find us some hot chocolate. Harry, Hermione, would you like a cup?"

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, that does sound nice." Harry also nodded in agreement.

"Say, Potter," Blaise began once Daphne had cleared the room. "I never got a chance to say 'thanks' for all this. Daph and I appreciate it." Blaise extended a hand.

Surprised, Harry quickly recovered and shook the pre-offered hand. "No worries. You'd do the same, I imagine." The two shared a look before awkward laughter erupted between them. Even Hermione shook her head with sly smile. "At least I'd hope so," Harry finished in jest.

After the moment had passed, Blaise reflected, "You're alright, Potter. I'm going to see if Daphne needs help. Poor girl has only had house elves to make anything for her," he finished as he left Hermione and Harry alone with their thoughts. Although, they would not be alone for long.

Hermione felt the queer sensation just before Harry, though both turned towards the front door in fear. "Fuck," Harry swore lowly as Hermione stood to attention, her eyes wide with apprehension. A large bang sounded against the door once, then twice, before it fell away.

The magic of the Portkey was fast and concise as Draco stood at Grimmauld's doorstep, carrying someone in his arms. The woman groaned against their harried travel as Draco shifted her weight easily. There was barely time to reminisce the last time he had crossed this particular doorstep: the desperation was the same, the circumstances, different.

"Draco, what happened?!" Harry tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he approached his mate.

He looked a fright with blood stains up to his collar. Draco nodded to his mother bleeding on his cloak. "That bastard, Greyback! Voldemort had her bitten to punish me," he responded shakily as Hermione led them up the stairs and to a bedroom she shared with Ginny. "I finished my meeting when Voldemort had her brought in and bitten as punishment. I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I brought her here as soon as I was clear." Carefully, Draco laid his mother on the closest bed as Hermione rushed out of the room.

"Was Snape there?" Harry demanded across the bed, as he grabbed a nearby towel. He set to work in applying pressure to the wound on her neck. He was shit at healing charms and prayed Hermione would return soon. The skin around the angry bite mark was a reddish grey. It was purposefully delivered not to heal; it was a death blow.

Draco shook his head, sending locks of blood-stained hair into disarray. "He wasn't at our meeting tonight."

Hermione ran back into the room with bottles of potions in quivering hands. She dropped the myriad of glass vials onto the bedspread and ordered, "Quick, turn her on her side."

"Can you stop it?" Draco asked hurriedly. "Will she change?"

Hermione tilted Narcissa's mouth open and poured a pain relieving potion down her throat before unstoppering a blood replenishing bottle. "I'm not sure. Maybe I can slow the changing agent of his bite, but I don't know if I'll be able to contain it." She assisted the elder witch to swallow the potion by smoothing her neck. She tried to ignore the blood slipping over her fingers as she did so. Then she set to work on stitching the wound close with her wand.

Blaise and Daphne were not far behind, the cups of hot cocoa long forgotten. Daphne tried to get closer once she recognized the family friend, but Blaise held her back as the three worked over the Malfoy matriarch. It would do no good for all five of them to be huddled over her now. Draco was not leaving, as that was not an option, and Harry held the terry cloth that stemmed the blood loss.

Frantically, Harry called out to the room. "Hermione, she's losing a lot of blood!" Harry turned the bloody cloth over as he pressed a clean side to the gaping hole in her neck.

Hermione whirled about to the frozen pair, unable to help, unable to move. "Are you sure no one else is here?!" she cried.

Daphne took two tries before she shaking her head. "The Weasleys haven't returned. I'm not sure when they will. I can't find anyone else." She stood paralyzed at the sight of blood. It was everywhere and there was so much of it. Too much of it on the outside meant the body was being depleted of it on the inside, and that could only mean one thing.

"Do you need us to contact anyone?" Blaise asked, the terror spread through his normally calm features.

Hermione caught desperate eyes with Draco across the bed. "I need Professor Snape or Dumbledore. This is beyond my control," she begged for forgiveness.

"I will not lose my mother!" Tears flooded down Draco's cheeks as he swallowed around a lump. "I won't," he choked back a sob and shook his head in defiance.

"I don't know how to heal this!" Hermione lamented with him as twin rivers also graced her face.

Narcissa turned pale blue eyes towards her son. "Draco …" she spoke for the first time since arriving at her old family home.

"I'm here." Draco wiped the back of a bloody hand across his face as he tried to staunch the flow of tears.

"It's alright … son." Narcissa coughed and shivered as the loss of blood sent her into quiet seizures. "You have done all you could…"

"No!" Draco looked helplessly to Harry and Hermione. "Save her!" Harry looked at a loss and grimly pursed his lips. What could he do? "Please!" Draco implored.

"Narcissa?" a new voice asked behind the teens.

Narcissa turned weakly towards the voice, but she could not see beyond the trio of teenagers standing above her.

"Move aside," someone quietly ordered.

Hermione stepped back, but Harry kept his hand on the cloth firmly pressed against the wound as he informed Remus Lupin of the situation. "Draco brought her here a few minutes ago. She's been bitten by Fenrir Greyback." At the mention of the werewolf, Lupin's eyes darkened. "She's losing a lot of blood, and fast."

"I've administered a pain relief and blood replenishing potion. I tried to stitch the wound, but it's deep," Hermione swallowed heavily. "I-I tried to contain the change agent, but it's beyond my expertise."

Lupin looked between the frantic trio, each covered in some measure of blood before looking to the pale witch laying on the bed. Her blouse had been torn and she wore her son's cloak to shelter her from the elements. Brown eyes locked with pale grey eyes and he sighed. "Oh Cissa, what has happened to you?" Lupin reached down and gently picked up Narcissa Malfoy. She hung limply in his arms as Lupin made to move towards the door.

Even though his mother booked no argument, Draco protested for her. "Where are you taking her?"

"I promise you, Mr. Malfoy, she will be in good care," Lupin promised. "Let me clean her up, and then we can come back and chat."

Harry pulled on Draco's arm when he looked to follow the pair. Harry shook his head silently, indicating for him to let Lupin take her. They understood the blond's trepidation and worry, for it was their own. "Draco, trust me."

"I trust you, Potter. It's him, I don't know," Draco cried.

Hermione looked to the blood staining the bedspread and their collective shirts. She thought about vanishing the substance, but she did not want to offend Draco, who already flirted with the edge.

Blaise must have noticed their need for privacy because he threw his head over his shoulder when Hermione caught his eyes. The Italian silently grabbed Daphne's hand and left the room. He understood they could provide Draco comfort in a way he never could.

Wrapping bloodied hands around herself to still the remaining tremors, Hermione prayed it would be enough.

 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an: For this story, I'm ignoring the post-HP information found on Pottermore. The Marauders, Severus Snape, and Narcissa Malfoy were in the same year at Hogwarts. Lucius Malfoy was a few years ahead of them. That would make Narcissa and Remus both thirty-seven in this story. Enjoy!

 

"Remus?" Narcissa asked from his arms. She floated in and out of consciousness as he made the trek to his room. "Remus Lupin. I remember you," she dozed as the fever began to take hold. He shifted her into a more comfortable position as he entered his bedroom and placed her on the bed.

"And I have never forgotten you, Narcissa." Remus pulled up a chair and sat next to the woman who had never been far from his thoughts over the years.

During his Hogwarts' years, Remus Lupin was eternally grateful to his classmates and friends. They gathered around him during a difficult adolescence and made being 'different' in a school full of exceptional children more tolerable. He would never forget the years of kindness James, Sirius, and Peter had afforded him.

But he would never forget the peace  _her_ smile brought. Narcissa Black was a lovely young witch and over the years, she had only grown in beauty. Remus would never forget the first time he laid eyes on her in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. It was as if the clouds had parted during his misery of a childhood to tease him with an angelic laugh and infectious smile, all hidden behind a white gold mane. He had fallen in love with the idea of her in his formative years.

Narcissa never teased him or made fun of his inexpiable rips and tears that would find its way into his clothing. She regarded him with kind eyes and if it had not been for Sirius rushing him away to the Shrieking Shack one evening, he would have begged for Sirius' cousin to accompany him to Hogsmeade just once.

And while Remus knew she would never be his, not in any way that mattered, he still dreamed about her when they attended classes; she was exquisite in Charms. He watched from the sidelines the evening she attended the Yule ball with Lucius Malfoy; she was a sight to be seen in a silver embroidered gown. In their seventh year, at their end of year ball, she had agreed to dance with him. It was just once, but it had been enough to mark him thoroughly.

Lupin had wrestled the entire three minutes and eleven seconds of the dance against what his animal told him to be true. She had laughed politely and asked about future plans while he stared anxiously at her neck: her slim, pale neck. The light perfume she wore that night haunted him to this day as he buried what his heart and wolf had told him at the end of that song.

Years later, he found it cruel that the fates would give him the affections of his witch's niece, when his heart had never been his to give. For it resided with the witch lying on the bed before him. She wheezed precious gasps of life as each struggling breath elongated that slim, pale neck. It was now marred by an angry bite mark that should have been given in love and care. It should have never been given in the first place to such a divine creature.

The fates did not allow his seventeen year-old self to recognize then, what he knew now at thirty-seven years. The blood lust grew, fueled by the wound on her neck, as her perfume lightly adorned her sheared robes. Remus Lupin knew that he would always be an animal at core, and he had made his peace with it. While he had been content to never drag his mate down the same path as he, it seemed that the fates had another plan in mind. Perhaps this was a chance to achieve what he thought impossible.

Narcissa coughed and a few drops of blood dotted her chin. "Remus, I'm… I'm going to change, aren't I?" Her voice held no fear, only a calm acceptance of what was to come. She stared straight ahead, eyes fixated on the ceiling above them.

He stroked a hand down her blood-matted hair, brushing a few strands away from her face. "Yes, Narcissa," he stated sadly, "You are."

"Will -will he be able to control me?" she murmured sadly. Remus knew who she was referring to: the werewolf responsible for turning them both. A flash of white-hot anger coursed through him at what she was about to experience. But he would be there with her every step of the way. If she would have him.

"He cannot control what never his to begin with."

She turned watery eyes upon him and looked at him for the first time. "I don't understand."

"I'm going to mark you, Narcissa, and claim what is mine by rights. As I should have twenty years ago." Remus Lupin's mate was not escaping him this time. And just this once, he was going to make sure of it; he would share his life force with her if need be. He was a rogue wolf no longer.

* * *

Hermione watched the door closed behind Blaise and Daphne with apprehensive eyes. Feeling what was to come before it happened; she lifted her wand to ward the small room against sound and eavesdropping. No one had to ask her, there had been little time to do so.

A pain-filled roar sounded behind her as an agony, sharper than heated steel, cut through her insides. She whirled to find Harry holding Draco back from tearing into the nearest piece of furniture.

"Draco, stop!" she cried as she rushed forward to grab the blond's failing arm. He swung, livid, stuck in an endless loop of memories as he lashed out in anger. She felt his magic pulse through her as Harry stumbled to his knees. Only she remained upright as both warred to contain Draco's rage.

The poster bed, the nightstand beside it, and the small wardrobe across the room began to shake violently. As they shook, they lifted off the floor, as if the laws of gravity had been suspended. Hermione could not be sure if the flare of magic was coming from Harry, or from Draco. Both seemed to be locked in a contest of wills and their magicks lashed out in response.

 _STOP!_  Hermione shouted in her head. The yell immediately ricocheted across her temple and she knew they felt it more than they heard it, as both winced at the command.

Just as quickly as the din began, silence blanketed the room. Harry and Draco stared at each other, their chests heaving with effort and strain, as their eyes blazing with unspoken emotion.

While Hermione had seen Draco's power manifest that night in the Room of Requirement, she had yet to have seen Harry's. Her normally calm and reserved Harry had now dropped back into a defensive stance, his wand sheathed as he dared Draco to make the first move.

His emerald eyes always sparkled, especially when in the throes of emotion: whether it be anger or excitement. But for the first time in her life, Harry's eyes sparked fear in Hermione. A kaleidoscope of green made up his supernatural irises. Swaths of emerald, jade, and hunter green burned in intensity, and jutting from the golden pupil that sat in the middle were molten lightning bolts made from a precious ore. It gave a striking contrast across the fields of greens. The bolts rotated clockwise within the sphere of his irises. It was beautiful and absolutely terrifying to behold.

Hermione calmly took a step forward amidst the tension even as her mind whirled a mile a minute. What alarmed her most of all was the absence of Harry reaching into her 'dam' of magic to increase his power. She had felt no such pull. In fact, her own reserve remained completely intact.

She expected Draco to rein in his anger, now that Harry had manifested his magic, but as Hermione glanced toward the blond, she gasped. His eyes reflected the same snowy field of silver she saw earlier this year. How could that be?

"Draco! Harry!" she spoke, hopeful to draw their attention. Neither said anything, but they did glance her way. "You both need to calm down!  _Now_! The Order and the Weasleys will be back soon."

"How do you expect me to calm down when my mother is fucking  **bleeding out of her neck**?!" Draco nearly roared in anger.

"I know it hurts, Draco," Harry tried to console him. "We can feel it the same as you, but you need to tone it down. You're lucky Hermione warded the room when she did."

"I only warded it against sound," she reminded them. "I don't know if it can contain the magical output you're both expelling. So, please," she made a lowering motion with her hand.

But it was pointless. Both were at a heightened state of fight versus flight; hell, she was on the balls of her feet. That itch to use the magic beneath her palm, to run, to hit something was barely restrained. She knew her mates barely held it in as well.

Draco fists trembled. "I want to tear out his throat, Potter. I want someone to  _pay_ right now! And telling me 'to bottle it up', is not going to make it go away." His breath was shallow and rapid as he tried to rein the wolf. Merlin. The last thing they needed was a wolf on a rampage through Grimmauld Place.

Apparently, Harry agreed as he tried to speak to his mate. "I know. I'll take it from you, if you want. You don't need that much anger inside of you."

"He's possibly killed my mother!" Draco roared, the snowflakes whirling at rapid speed. "That bastard of an animal has killed my mother and you expect me to … just…" Draco yelled his frustration again.

Hermione felt her own anger grow and multiply. Her rune hummed for retribution. She wanted to harm Fenrir as much as Draco, which was odd, because she wasn't one for violence. But suddenly, a taste for blood tickled the back of her throat. She wanted to sink her teeth into warm flesh and…

Shaking her head at the gruesome thought, Hermione tried to remain in her rational part of her brain. She concentrated on the very logic she prided herself on, though the need festered on the tip of her tongue. Draco's emotions were bleeding over to her own. At that moment, she did not have to summon a mirror to know that her eyes were glowing. She could feel the heat pouring from her eye sockets.

"Our eyes," she tried for a diversion. Looking down to her own hands, she saw the Rune of Wisdom glowing with power. "This has never happened before. You're both at maximum capacity and I don't feel a thing."

"I don't have time for theories, Granger! My life is falling apart. My father is in Azkaban, and I left my mother alone with that monster so I could figure out how to protect myself. I thought if I left, I could figure out a way to protect  _us both_. I knew I couldn't do it by myself, and now  **this**!" A vase rose from the table and smashed into the wall. Shards flew into bits across the ground. "This is what happens! Even when I had the means to save her, I couldn't do anything about it!"

"Draco, if you had jumped in to save her, you would have both been killed and you know it!" Harry tried to reason.

"But my mother — "

"He took my mother, too!" Harry yelled. Golden lightning bolts within his irises flashed. "I want him as bad as you do. Both of them! I promise you, we will set this right."

Harry's admission calmed the beast within, and Draco's shoulders quaked with the loss of adrenaline. He would not be changing after all. Draco turned his head as he stared off into nothing. Bitterness seeped into his words, "I'm tired of waiting. I'm not as patient as you are, Potter."

Hermione placed a comforting hand on Draco's arm. He jerked at the touch, clearly surprised. As if realizing his mistake, he suddenly pulled her in close and took solace in her calming presence. "The time will come, Draco." She sought to catch his eye, but he would not face her. "Take whatever patience and solace you need from us," she offered.

Harry's arms snaked around her waist as Hermione laid her head on Draco's chest. The wild measure of his heartbeat whirred from still too-fresh emotions. In a matter of moments, her world had nearly tipped into chaos. She could only imagine what it was like for Draco to have seen everything play out before him. He sniffled above her and she hugged him tighter. "It will be okay," she spoke to herself. Her soft voice was lost between bloodied shirts, but she knew they heard her.

Arms tightened about her in response. Even though Narcissa's fate was unsure and this was absolutely the last way she wanted to be reunited with him, it still felt right, there, in between their arms. The weight of the world weighed upon their shoulders and alone, it might have been too much, but together they would share it all: the pleasure, the joy, and the pain.

Soon, the trio found themselves settled on the floor at the foot of the bed to wait. The December moonlight bathed them in an ethereal glow as they sat together in darkness. Hermione lounged in Draco's arms; her head snuggled against his chest. She reassured herself the blood that stained his shirt was not his while Draco and Harry sat shoulder to shoulder. They sat like that on the hardwood floor for an indeterminate amount of time, in the silence. They waited for any news to come together.

Normally, it was difficult for Hermione to be silent. She longed to tell them about her latest interaction with the Mother of Werewolves, but with Draco's unexpected arrival that evening, she could not find the words after such an encounter. Turning to glance at Draco, she vowed if this night ended badly, if Lupin returned with the worst news, then she would give them both her last breath of hope. She would leave none for herself. Looking over to Harry, she saw he understood the magnitude of this situation as well. They would not lose the blond now. She would protect him, as he had the night after Slughorn's party. From her lips to God's ears.

Before she could conjecture further, Hermione felt a presence at the ward she'd set earlier. Reached out to them, she warned,  _Someone is coming._

Harry made to stand first and he extended a hand to Draco. The brooding wizard readily accepted it. Draco pulled Hermione up with him and together, the trio faced the door. Hermione mentally took down the wards and allowed their visitor to enter.

Lupin's shirt front was bloodied as well, albeit with a more brownish red, indicating old blood. He wiped a handkerchief across his mouth before tucking the small cloth into a jacket pocket. He silently closed the door behind him and re-warded the room.

Hermione swallowed. If Lupin felt it was necessary to ward the room, then he couldn't possibly have good news. Her hand squeezed Draco's hand harder.

Lupin looked Draco in the eye. "Your mother is resting. She will be okay." Hermione let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Draco shagged against her in relief as Lupin continued, "You all are aware she has been bitten." A statement, not a question.

"What does that mean for her?" Harry asked, even though they knew the answer. This nightmare would become real once it was voiced aloud. They needed to hear it, so they could deal with it and move forward. That pressing need for vengeance crept up Hermione's spine and she beat it back down.

"She will shift," Lupin calmly explained at the same time Draco swore. Hermione did not let go of his hand and squeezed his hand even tighter. "Her body is in a state of rest as it accommodates her newfound abilities. I gather she will awaken in about three days. It would have been sooner, but the blood loss was too great." He looked at Draco. "You saved her life by bringing her here tonight."

"And what kind of life does she have to look forward to?" Draco asked full of bitterness. "She can never go back now. They will shun her. You, of all people, should know." He sat down on the bed and ran a weary hand through his hair. It fell uncharacteristically out of place, not that he cared in the slightest.

Lupin watched as Harry and Hermione turned to calm Draco. Not once had they lost physical contact with the blond wizard. "I'm afraid I do," he murmured as he took in the scene before him. The three spoke in hushed tones. Lupin gave them a bit of privacy before Draco was once more standing between them.

The trio stood and faced him, ready for the worst.

The sight they presented was amazing: how easily Draco fit in with Harry and Hermione, as if his place had always been beside them. Regarding the trio with a surprised brow, Lupin continued, "She will adjust, Mr. Malfoy. It won't be easy and I will help her at every step."

"No offense, but my mother doesn't know you."

Lupin cocked his head in thought. "I would have imagined you said the same thing before you found your mates, Mr. Malfoy, and yet how easily you have adapted."

A pregnant pause swept over the room. Lupin stuck his tongue in his cheek before nodding to himself and beginning again, "Did you think I could not recognize my own kin? I knew something was amiss this summer, but I could not be sure." Lupin pushed his hands into his pockets. "I've heard stories you know, about the fabled  _ame de loups_. It is impossible to achieve and yet, three of my former students, have not only accomplished one," he looked at each pointedly, "but have mastered it."

"Professor?" Harry asked, perplexed. Old habits did indeed die hard and while Remus Lupin had not been their professor for over three years, Harry from time to time, still addressed him as such.

"I did not have to hear what was going on, but being a magical creature myself, I could feel the pull of your pack, Ms. Granger." He looked to Hermione. "A simple silencing spell is not enough to contain its influence." He rocked on the balls of his feet. "While I am refraining from splaying you all over a pit of coals, what has been done is done," he sighed resigned, as he walked towards the trio. "But I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that what you have undertaken is foolhardy at best," he looked pointedly at Draco, "or could get you killed. If Fenrir Greyback were to ever get wind of this — "

"He hasn't," Draco assured. "I've haven't had much run-in with him, besides tonight. I've been on guard around his pack."

"Are you sure about that?" Lupin questioned, his glare intense on Draco. "If I could feel Ms. Granger's pull and your combined anger through the floorboards, then imagine if Greyback were to sniff you out. The Dark Lord would have had you tortured and killed, or worse! If he knew you were bonded to Harry and Hermione, imagine how he could have baited you to capture them!? And you and I both know they would have come running." Lupin shook his head fiercely. "No, I'd say you haven't been on guard at all!" Ire crept up his neck and while Lupin had always been slow to anger over the years, the consequences had been too great should he ever lose  _complete_  control, the emotions of the night ran high. This discovery, a second chance with his mate, the repercussions to follow, and the close calls the three before him had taken pushed him to the edge. He found himself teetering precariously.

In a blink, Lupin was thrown back, his head smacking against the wooden wall with a loud 'thunk'. No spell had been cast or incantation spoken.

Opening his eyes, he saw Harry and Hermione standing protectively in front of Draco, no wands drawn, their eyes a beautiful whirl of color. They held Lupin firm to the wall and his mouth fell open, slack in astonishment.

"Draco's been through a lot tonight, Professor." Harry stepped forward in warning, the swirling ribbons of green and golden bolts back. "I think you've said enough."

"Gods..." Lupin trailed off as Hermione released him with wave of her fingers. He slid to the floor on his knees. "I didn't think it was possible. I had to be sure." Lupin took in Harry, Hermione, and Draco before him. So, it was true. He almost laughed. "You don't understand."

"Enlighten us," Hermione ordered.

"The  _ame de loups_ , a  **true**   _ame de loups_  has not been achieved in over two centuries. The last one of known record occurred back in the eighteenth century. Werewolves, of course, knew of its existence, and tried to force a soul bonding through the ritual, but the magic can't be tricked. It is much stronger than just being mates," he spoke from the floor. "It is a calling from the Lupine gods, fated through time and you three…" he sat stunned into silence.

Hermione ducked a curl behind her ear as she grabbed Draco's hand again. "I found the spell here in the Black library," Hermione started when he would not continue. "It was only meant as a way for Harry and I to trust Draco."

Lupin nodded. "Magical creatures and a few knowledgeable wizards have long known the effects of the ritual, hence why they tried to recreate it, but it never worked. You could bind yourselves to one another, but  _this_  … this they could never achieve."

"What?" Draco asked.

"Power," Lupin answered in awe. "A triumvirate of power. Three individuals, each guided by a marked rune in complete balance. The power you three hold…This is … this is extraordinary."

Swallowing nervously, Hermione began once he saw she had agreement from Harry and Draco, "Be that as it may, we're not about to tell everyone about this. Besides you, only two others have stumbled upon this and we intend to keep it that way."

Lupin's eyes sharpened as he processed what she told him. "Who else knows? Can you trust them?"

Draco answered, "Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. They found out through an incident at school. I trust them both, but…"

"We don't," Hermione finished for him. "They asked to join and we brought them here to consider it. We haven't exactly made a decision in that regard."

"Join what? The Order, you mean."

"Well, that too. But they've asked to join in on the ritual -" Harry began before Lupin cut him off.

"It's not possible. Like I said, the magic can't be tricked. You could perform the ritual, but it would never grant them the power of a true  _ame de loups_. They could be bonded together, given heightened senses, but that is speculation alone." Lupin laid one hand on Harry's shoulder and the other on Hermione's shoulder. "What the Lupine gods have given you three is a gift. I can't tell you why or what to do with it, but it is a gift they do not give lightly. And most likely it won't be given for another lifetime."

Lupin stepped back from the trio. "I agree that no one else needs to know about this. I give you my word not to tell a soul."

"Even Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked.

"The less people know, the safer it will be for you all," Lupin stressed.

"How is Professor Dumbledore not knowing safer for us?" Harry asked befuddled. Surely it couldn't hurt for the head of the Order of the Phoenix to know.

Lupin froze at the doorknob, intent to return to the side of his mate. It had already been a long evening. He sighed before opening the door and replied, "Because power is the greatest temptation of all, Harry."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

The door shut behind Remus Lupin with a soft click, although the locking mechanism broadcasted loudly in the trio's sensitive ears. Hermione looked to the bed, which looked inviting after such a stressful evening, but none moved to sit down. The sheets were dotted with old blood.

"Well that changes everything," Hermione remarked heavily as she reset the wards for privacy. If it wasn't enough that she was mated to the Boy-Who-Lived and Slytherin's prince, she was now a  _Lupa_  of an ancient werewolf bond, at the behest the Gods apparently. How was  _she_ to manage this new responsibility?

Harry took a deep breath, blowing wayward strands out of his eyes. "I certainly wasn't expecting of all of this."

"I daresay the entire course of this evening has become one large surprise," Draco replied dryly. "One unforeseen fuck-up after another." He exhaled and pinched his nose in agitation before opening clear grey eyes to them both. "So, what do you suppose we do about Blaise and Daphne now?"

Hermione's mouth moved to respond, but the words failed her. She sighed, defeated. "I don't know. What else is there to do?"

"We could try the ritual anyway," Harry hurried before Draco could respond. "You heard Remus. It may not give them what it gave us, but it couldn't hurt."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. "But the ritual needs to be performed under the light of a full moon, Harry. The next one isn't due until we return back to Hogwarts."

Harry stressed his solution regardless. "We'll try it anyway. I mean, what harm could it possibly do?"

"Famous last words," Draco said, expressionless. "Well, it certainly won't create a 'triumvirate of power'. Merlin knows, you only need one per century."

"Speaking of, I think we should discuss this," Hermione looked meaningfully between her mates.

Harry took his glasses off and wearily rubbed his eyes. "I thought we  _were_ discussing it."

"No, I mean we need to discuss what's happening to us. Just now, you both were at maximum capacity and I didn't … I couldn't feel a thing. Normally, when one of us uses the other's reserve, the other is left with a smaller amount. Something's happened if we can all achieve maximum capacity without tapping into each other's 'dam'."

Placing his glasses back on his nose, Harry looked at her thoughtfully. "A shift, perhaps?" His question took her back to their last encounter at Hogwarts.

Hermione eyes widened. "You don't suppose, do you?"

Draco looked bewildered. "I don't follow —"

Whirling on the blond quickly, Hermione sought the truth. "When you contacted us that evening, that night you teased us about being intimate?" She gestured to Harry and herself. "Did you have a physical reaction of some sort?"

He lifted a pale brow. "More so than the usual?"

"Draco, I'm serious!" she replied, exasperated. "Do you remember what you felt?"

He sat down on the bloodied bedspread, his mouth falling into a frown as he recalled the night in question. "I was heading to the Dark Court, when I," his eyes glazed over in memory. "I sort of stumbled. I would have collapsed if it hadn't been for a column close by," he answered quietly.

"What did you feel?" she pressed.

"I'm not sure. It was akin to someone sucking the oxygen out of my body, the quickest feeling of suffocation, and then, a breath of cool air. I could feel it running in my veins. It was over before it started, really. Then I contacted you. It's hard to explain." Draco lifted introspective eyes to Hermione, who nodded in return.

"Me too." She looked back at Harry, trying and failing to keep the heat from her face. "I can't explain it, but I saw the Mother of Werewolves, while we … er… well. She told me...," she trailed off, uncharacteristically unsure. How could she tell them that their lives were in her hands, and that she was their  _Lupa_? Bravely, she continued on, sans that tidbit. "I think whatever happened that night has shifted our abilities. I think if we tried, we'd find that we could call upon our increased magical capabilities without hindering the other. I don't suggest we test it right now, but it would be good to know soon."

Harry agreed. "The thought does have merit."

"I would be glad to give a personal demonstration to Greyback," Draco snarled, his thoughts never far from his mother and what she was about to experience.

"Do you think that's wise?" Hermione asked, sitting on the bed beside him. "Professor Lupin stated that Greyback could discern your true nature, given his heightened senses. Maybe we shouldn't send you back?" She placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"Worried, sweetheart?" Draco gave her a rogue grin as he kissed the hand on his shoulder. While sweet, the gesture agitated her further.

"Only because you don't seem to be! That monster assaulted your mother." With the reminder, Draco's grin dropped into a sneer, though it was not directed at her. "I know you feel you could keep it a secret from him, but you would hardly be able to restrain yourself the next time you saw him," Hermione argued hotly.

"Which is all the more reason for Blaise and Daphne to accompany Draco," Harry asserted.

Hermione whirled to face Harry. "You can't be serious about sending him back!"

Draco shrugged. "I don't have a choice either way."

"You may not, but I do!" Hermione pleaded with them to see reason. "If you send him back, we all know it will only end in disaster. Greyback will take every opportunity he can to throw in it your face." She looked between the two young men before settling on Draco. "You honestly believe you're strong enough to ignore it?" She arched a quizzical brow at Draco, who matched her expression. "I could literally taste your blood lust a second ago, Draco. All Greyback needs to do is provoke you just once."

Draco did not refute her claim. "Then I'll have no choice but to control myself. I'm not about to put both of you in danger and if I need to close my mind, then so be it. It should be easy enough."

After a tense moment, Harry nodded. "I agree." He overrode Hermione's protests; she was on the losing side of this one. "Hermione, Draco's right. He's a strong enough Occulumens and if he wasn't before, he should be now. Blaise and Daphne can keep an eye out on him around Greyback." Harry looked to Draco directly. "We won't keep you in there for long. Once we figure out how to destroy Voldemort, I want you out. The Order can get information on his movements from someone else. If the Order has a problem with it, they can take it up with me."

Hermione scoffed low in her throat. "There's no sense in wasting time, if you two have come to a decision. Since you both won't listen to reason, I'm going to turn in for the night." Hermione stood from the bed and hastily removed her soiled shirt in favor of clean sleepwear. She turned around when she noticed the two had not moved an inch. " _Alone!_ "

The bedroom door flew open at her command as she directed them out. After they left, she closed the door behind them. The regret was instantaneous. While her body yearned to touch theirs, skin to skin, and bask in their warmth, she pursed her lips in restraint. Hesitating by the door, she turned for her wardrobe and finished getting ready for bed. Bonded or not, she still held free rein over her actions, and tonight, she was sleeping alone.

* * *

While the eventful evening was winding down for some, it continued on for others. Remus Lupin shifted in the wooden chair as he kept vigil by Narcissa's bedside. He scarcely slept the remainder of the night; the irrational fear that he would awake and she would vanish overshadowed the need for sleep.

As the night wore on, he re-acquainted himself with her alluring features, now stilled as she lay unconscious. The unobstructed view, something he had missed over the years, allowed him to view the laugh lines that graced the corner of her eyelids and mouth. He took in the perfect, smooth hands that still wore a gold band on her left ring finger. Picking up her limp hand, Remus fingered the band and its heavy implication.

Narcissa stirred and grimaced, her pink mouth turned upside down as her body adjusted a new strain infiltrating her body. While part of him was mired in guilt, he could not stifle the elation that began to creep from his toes upward. She was  _his_. Even if she was still married, Wizarding laws were clear when it came to magical creatures and their mates. They would be hard pressed to tear her from him now.

As she softly moaned in her sleep and shifted under the thin blankets, Remus' grin faded. Of course, she would still have to take in his blood to complete the mating ritual. After the shock of what she was becoming and who she belonged to wore off (if it ever did), Remus grew fearful that she would never take his vein. It was more likely that she would probably curse him for all eternity.

But he was banking on the fact that she wouldn't leave him for it. Remus knew she would not likely return to Voldemort now, and he doubted Lucius Malfoy would ever desire her again, that is, if he were to ever escape the clutches of Azkaban. Remus could only hope that she would remain by his side as a last option, the best of the worst as it were. To have her presence nearby was more than enough after enduring a long drought without her. She murmured again, as beads of sweat broke out along her temple.

"There, there now. It will soon be over," he whispered beneath his breath, his thumb gently wiping across her brow. Her skin grew feverish and warm, but he knew it was her immune system trying to defeat the werewolf blood coursing through her veins. It was a part of the process. She would probably run hot for the next two days before her body stabilized at an even warmer temperature. His kind tended to run hotter than the average wizard.

Daybreak on Christmas Eve found Remus still hunched over in his chair, when a terse knock at his bedroom door shook him from light dozing. He checked Narcissa one last time before standing to open the door. His mate's son marched briskly into the room before Remus could greet the young wizard.

Remus closed the door behind him, chuckling to himself. Turning to greet his former student, Remus nodded his salutation. He figured Draco was just as unsure as he was on how to approach the delicate situation.

"Is it normal for her to be shivering like that?" Draco asked from his perch beside Narcissa's bedside. He stood at the foot of her bed as steel grey eyes tracked over his mother's features. He would note that some of her color had returned and she was no longer sporting the ghostly pallor she had when Remus first brought her to his room.

Remus moved to stand next to Draco. The blond wizard eyed him suspiciously but did not move. "It is," he answered. "Her body is trying to fight off the change as if it were an infection. It will pass. There is nothing to be alarmed about, Mr. Malfoy, I can assure you."

Draco moved closer to the head of his mother's bed. He reached down and took her hand into his own, squeezing it just slightly. Remus purposefully clasped his hands behind his back. While Draco Malfoy was no threat to his mate, Remus was not keen to another man touching her so soon. His tentative bond had yet to be cemented and he pulled on nervous fingers behind his back as not to alarm the younger wizard.

Nodding, Draco looked down to his mother. Across the bed, he glanced at the empty chair just an arm's length away. When Draco spoke next, he did not make eye contact with Remus. "You've been with her all night," he observed as his eyes roamed over the bite Greyback had given her, now cleaned and bandaged. However, he could not see the newly-given mark that sat just underneath her blouse; the one Remus had placed above her heart. The blankets pulled up to her chest made sure of it.

"I have some experience in the area," Remus remarked dryly. "I wanted to make sure nothing unexpected happened. The first few days are usually the hardest."

"You intend to remain with her for the next few days, then?" This time Draco did look at him. An odd mix of skepticism and surprise graced Draco's features as he voiced his question.

Remus intended to remain with her for the rest of his life, but instead answered, "I think it is for the best. I can help allay some fears, and answer questions when she awakes. Or would you rather explain to her the nuances of being a werewolf, seeing how you are one as well? I'm sure that will come as quite a shock. With me, she already knows what I am. What she will become. I can offer her a steady hand."

A questioning brow quirked higher. "How kind of you to offer."

Remus nodded once more. "It is unfortunate what has happened to her, that much is true. But even at our very worst, we can still find moments of happiness, of comfort. Hopefully the change will not be as abrupt if she learns that beforehand." Remus saw his youth flash before his eyes. "I, of course, had to learn that lesson the hard way," he replied wistfully.

"And what happiness could she possibly find now?" Draco voiced his concern, his grip still tight on his mother's lifeless hand. "My father, should he ever return, would want nothing to do with her. I forbid her to return to the Manor, so that animal could taunt her within her own home. She would become friendless, ostracized, everything she held dear turned upside down in a matter of days. Pardon me if I fail to see the happiness and comfort you're alluding to," he cynically remarked.

Remus stared at the boy before beginning slowly, "Draco, are you describing your mother's fears? Or your own?" He gathered from the prompt shuttering of Draco's mouth, he had hit a nerve. "Have you not found a sort of happiness with Harry and Hermione?" Remus rushed on when he saw the blond begin to shut down; the mention of their names had Draco hiding the truth away like a precious secret. "No, no, you don't have to hide it with me!" Remus implored. "And you shouldn't hide it either. It is to be expected that you three would grow a relationship unlike any other." Remus grinned, half in longing, half in disbelief. "I imagine the  _ame de loups_  is an enormous weight to carry in secret. Would you deny your mother the same happiness with her own intended?"

Remsu watched varying expressions of shock, horror, and doubt run across Draco's pointed features before they settled on one he recognized instantly: anger.

In quick steps, Draco moved towards him, but Remus had expected this. It was better to get this out of the way before Narcissa awoke, if only for her sake. Remus allowed Draco to push him against the wall, his fists balled up beneath his collar. "I don't think I heard you correctly, Professor. Would care to repeat what you just said?"

Remus sought the inner peace he had developed as a child. It would do no good for either one of them to come to blows. While the young wolf pushing him painfully against the wall had yet to learn that, Remus had the great equalizer of time on his side. "Your mother is my mate, Draco. She always has been," Remus stated clearly without any doubt. He lifted out-turned hands to either side of him, indicating he would not retaliate.

Instant clarity ran across Draco's expression as he sputtered curses with incredulity. He tightened his grip and pulled Remus closer to his face. "You've marked her, you son-of-a-bitch! You wanted this to happen!" he accused on a snarl. "Admit it, you -"

Remus could feel the heat rise from one of Draco's hands and he sought to deflate the situation from deteriorating further. "Draco, your mother was dying! She would be dead if I did not start the mating process and open my life force to her," he stressed to the angry blond. Remus felt his own temper rising with the implied insinuation. "And if you think for one second that I would knowingly wish the pain and exile, the ruined shell of a life I endured upon her, then I would have marked her when we were seventeen! And you would have been  _my son! As you should have been!"_ Remus yelled, incensed. He pushed the now stunned-into-silence blond off of him. Draco stumbled to the floor, too shocked to catch himself.

Remus stood over the young wizard. He hadn't been expecting understanding, but still, the accusation cut deep. "Every day, I had to live with the knowledge that someone else was enjoying what was  _mine_  while I suffered in silence. The same feelings you are too frightened to admit for Harry and Hermione is what I have carried for nearly twenty years! I could have marked her against her will if I 'wanted this to happen', as you so aptly put it," he mocked. "But I chose to hold my wolf back. For  _ **her**_! And for you to deduce after all of three minutes that I 'wanted this to happen' -" Remus cut himself off. He was not purposely trying to match Draco's antagonism, which he had anticipated, but he had to stop before he crossed a line.

Draco fumed on the ground, before slowly rising to stand before Remus. He refrained from attacking the older wizard, still coming to grips with what he just heard. "It seems that I'm too late to intercede on what has already occurred," Draco started as Remus crossed his arms in front of him. "But I hope you don't think that I will just willingly give my approval."

Remus took a deep breath, carefully walking an invisible line. "Your approval is not necessary, but your blessing would be appreciated as we move forward. It is one of the reasons I told you now as opposed to later. She is going to have a hard enough time as it is when she awakes. The last thing she needs to see is the two of us fighting." Remus impressed upon him, "And I want you to understand. I am  _not_  going anywhere."

Draco nodded his head to his still sleeping mother. "That is, if she will have you."

Remus cocked his head in thought. "If she will have me," he slowly conceded. "But Draco, let me be clear. I will not tolerate you upsetting her. If anything is to happen, it will be of her own volition."

Draco crossed his arms in like manner. "She is practically bonded to you. How the hell does she have a choice in the matter?"

"I have lived twenty years without her; without my very reason for existing. If she chooses," he struggled over the possibility, " _not_  to be with me, then I will have no choice but to let her go. I will not force her," he finished quietly. "I would never."

Draco unfolded his arms as he regarded his former Professor. "But if what you've said is true, and you two share a life force, then…"

"Then my life will be forfeit," Remus answered simply with a shrug and haggard smile. Tense moments hung between the two. Only when the sound of a soft moan reached their ears, did Remus break the stare. "Now if you'd excuse me, I must get back to tending to your mother." Remus moved around the blond and once more took up his post beside her bed.

Remus heard uneasy shuffling as Draco debated whether to leave or stay. Remus would not press him; it would be an adjustment for all three of them.

"Fine," Draco grated. "As long as my mother has a choice, a real choice, then I suppose I can learn to make do. For  _her_. But let me be clear." Remus shifted in his seat to face the young wizard behind him. "If you do anything to hurt her or if she is in any way unhappy, I will not hesitate to grant your death wish."

"It seems we have an understanding, Mr. Malfoy." Remus watched as the young wizard who could have been his son leave the room in a huff.

Draco stopped before shutting the door behind him. "Funny thing, actually," he paused, looking over his shoulder at Remus. "I ran into my cousin, Nymphadora, on the way up here." Remus' spine straightened at the mention of his former lover's name. "She's been asking about you. She's downstairs with the others eating breakfast. I told her I would pass the message along when I saw you." Draco gave him a smirk before finally disappearing behind the door.

One confrontation was out of the way and it wasn't even time for brunch. Remus sighed as he slumped in his chair. It was certainly going to be an interesting Christmas Eve.

 


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Gathering his Gryffindor courage, Remus sought to meet this situation head on. He took a few moments to compose himself before quietly making his way downstairs. The fragrant aroma of breakfast and morning coffee made his mouth water, but what was to come made his stomach sour.

By time, he reached the entryway to the kitchen, Remus could hear Tonks recounting her Quidditch days to Blaise, Draco, and Harry. Hermione listened politely, but her mind seemed a world away. Beside Hermione, the Greengrass lass was engaged in conversation with her roommate, Fleur. It was only when Remus cleared his throat, did the room look up to greet him.

"Oh, Remus," Tonks jumped from the bench. "I made your morning cuppa." She grabbed an oversized red mug filled with coffee, and charmed to stay warm. "Happy Christmas Eve." She kissed him lightly on the cheek in greeting. He took a sip from the cup she offered.

"Remus, what is going on?" Tonks asked. "Is it true that my aunt is here?" She threw her head towards the table of teenagers, who had curiously turned to observe the pair. "Rumor around the house, is that she was brought here last night?" Her face pinched at the mention of an aunt who had never been family growing up.

"Yes, it is true." Remus did not miss the evil smirk that lit Draco's face, nor did he miss the apprehensive eyes Harry and Hermione aimed his way. "Let's move to where we can discuss this in private."

"What's going on?" she inquired as he led her down the hall.

"There is something you need to know," he began once they'd entered an empty room. He kept his eyes on her the entire time as he recounted what had began as an adolescent crush before evolving into an unyielding love. Even when she backed into a chair and knocked it over in surprise, he did not interrupt his tale. He finished with the events of last night, the pinnacle of twenty years, and what, sadly, that meant for their fledgling relationship.

"But…but I thought we were…" Her hands tugged at her Auror robes in distress.

He sighed. "It is with a child's hope that you dreamed of the two of us. We could have never worked, Dora. I am sorry, truly. "

Her eyes watered as she refused to accept the inevitable. "Remus, I love you. And I would have always loved you. And yet, you would so easily turn that away for a woman, who never once cared that you even existed." Tears quickly morphed into wrath. "This is going to backfire, Remus! Mark my words. Do not come begging to me when it does!" Hastily wiping a hand across her cheek, she sidestepped around him. But he was not ready to let her go just yet.

"Dora! Wait! Please you have to understand!"

Tonks did not hesitate; she slapped hard across the face. His head turned with the force of her blow.

Ignoring the sting gripping her hand, she plowed on, "I don't have to understand shit! I loved you, despite what the world thinks of you. I would have  **continued** to love you. You can only hope that  _she_  will love you the same as I. I pray to Circe you never have to feel what I feel right now." Tonks retreated from the room. Her boots clunked down the hallway as if her very heart were trampled beneath it.

* * *

Christmas morning at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place started out subdued and abysmal. Tonks had left for her parents' house and had yet to return. It was unlikely that she would. Tonks' hasty exit had taken the entire Christmas spirit out of the house and try as she could, even Molly Weasley could not push the spirit of the season back into it.

Everyone knew of Narcissa Malfoy's assault and what would result of it, but it did little to stir sympathy for the Malfoy matriarch. For that reason alone, Remus chose to remain isolated in their room. He came down for breakfast, but Harry did not see him for the remainder of the day. For someone who had just recovered his long lost mate (Harry still couldn't believe the story Draco told he and Hermione), Remus seemed to be in no mood to celebrate. He looked ashen and tired, and Harry wondered if his former professor was getting any rest.

They had tried exchanging gifts as a whole group after breakfast, but the atmosphere was uncomfortable to say the least. The atypical mix of Slytherins and Gryffindors brought unsettling feelings of House prejudices. Harry did not miss the looks of loathing tossed the blond's way. Even after six months of working for the Order, it still wasn't enough to bury old family grudges.

Blaise and Daphne had no gifts to exchange. Their presents waited back at their family home, so they sat like the ostracized pair they were and observed the makings of a Weasley holiday from the sidelines. Hermione spiritedly tried to intervene between Ron and Harry as she presented her gifts to them, but other than a mumbled ' thanks' and a hug from Ron, her plan fell flat.

By noon, Harry had given up and like Draco a few minutes before him, he chose to leave. He found Draco lounging in their room. He lay on top of his bed, his hands comfortably behind his head. The snitch Hermione had given him earlier floated a few meters above him.

"I'm honestly surprised you lasted this long, Potter," Draco said as soon as Harry entered their room. "After the blunder twins burst into song, I knew I couldn't stay a moment longer."

Harry sat on the bed by Draco's feet. "I knew Christmas this year was going to be awkward, but I had no idea how much. I thought I would be breaking up another fight between you and Ron by now."

"You're welcome," Draco remarked dryly.

Harry looked down at his hands, knowing his next question would be received one of two ways. "Have you seen your mother today?" He read the blond's emotions quickly. By now, Harry knew Draco enough to know that he would either shut down, get defensive, or perhaps curse him. Surprisingly, he was startled at the weight of guilt that flooded over from Draco.

"She looks better." Draco turned his head towards the lone window that faced the backyard.

"Then why do you feel so melancholy?"

Draco sat up, his hands coming to rest over his knees. "I don't feel  _melancholy."_

Defensive, it was then.

Harry raised a skeptical brow. "Are you seriously going to lie to me?" he asked in amazement. "After all this time? I  _can_ read you, you know."

Harry felt the connection he shared with Draco shutter and close. Ah, Draco had closed him off then. "Even if you shut me out, it's not like I can't tell," Harry replied.

"I would like to be left alone," Draco moodily replied.

"Right, like that's going to work. I can either stay here and bug you, or go downstairs and get questioned by Ginny as to why I'm not dating her, or get berated by my best friend as to why I'm refusing to share details of my life with him, while his mum and brothers drill holes in the back of my head." He looked at Draco expectantly. "I think I'll stay here, thank you."

"You're more annoying than Hermione," Draco whispered beneath his breath, but Harry heard it easily.

Swinging a leg over the bed, Harry turned to face the blond fully. Harry answered in kind, "And you're more stubborn than she is! You don't have to hide, Draco. It's not like you can. I care about what's happening to your mum. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." Harry waited out the silence. Normally, he would have pressed the blond to answer, but he knew Draco used the silence to assess if a response was necessary, as if the questioner had an ulterior motive. Harry figured it was a Slytherin trait, something to do with survival or the other. It annoyed the hell out of him, but it was Draco's  _modus operandi._

A moment longer, then Draco responded, "I'm worried about her." A pause, then he started again, "Her entire world is going to change when she awakes. I can't do anything to stop it. And as much as it pains me to say it … maybe I should have … maybe I shouldn't have brought her here," he quietly voiced his fear into the room.

"But if you didn't bring her here ...?" Harry answered his own question as he asked it aloud, and saw no need to finish it. "Oh." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "You think her death would be preferable to being a mated to werewolf? To actually becoming a werewolf?"

Draco let out a frustrated sigh. "You don't understand, Potter. It's not the world she came from. To say it will be an adjustment is an understatement. Hell, I don't think I've fully adjusted. I acted rashly in the heat of the moment because I did not want to lose her. But I had no idea what I've given her in its place. I can hardly call it a life."

Harry thought on it. "You said Remus could have marked her when they were seventeen. I suppose if he did, she would have adjusted by now, don't you think?"

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry's annoying habit to see the good in everything. "And that's another thing. If he had, I would have been his son." Draco quieted as he recalled the heated conversation. "Can you imagine?" he asked on a laugh.

"You mean instead of prissy white hair, you'd have a regular brown?" Harry snorted. A fist promptly struck him in the arm and Harry recoiled, rubbing the sore spot. "Well, it would've done you some good! Bring you off that high Malfoy horse of yours."

Harry knew he'd did it now. Nothing riled up Draco more than insulting his family name; the blond was just too easy. But he would willingly take the playful jabs and jinxes sent his way. It was infinitely better than the sadness it preceded.

* * *

The snow finally fell from the sky after nightfall. Fat flakes of snow fell around Hermione and she was immediately taken back to Christmas past in her youth. Even though this wasn't her first holidays with the Weasleys, Hermione could never get used to so many people in one place. While she loved the Weasleys, sometime, she just had to escape the mayhem to regroup.

She initially headed to the Black library for light reading, but had embarrassingly walked in on Bill and Fleur in the throes of passion against the old stacks. Grabbing her hat and coat, she headed for the backyard seeking peace and quiet from the cramped rowhouse. She now leaned against the porch railing watching the snow fall through the night air. Behind her, the patio door opened with a long squeak and she smirked to herself. Her quiet time was bound to be interrupted sooner or later. Arms wrapped around her middle and she leaned against a chest in content.

"I don't know about you, but I've had enough 'Weasley' to last me several lifetimes," Draco whispered into her ear. She involuntary shivered.

"They're a loving family, but they can be overwhelming at times," she admitted with a smile. She never got a chance to thank him for staying during the gift exchange this morning. She knew it was the last thing he wanted to do, but she had asked him and he did it for her.

Draco laid his chin on top of her head. "Mother would play the piano Christmas morning while Father watched. Always the same song. I usually spent the morning opening piles of presents and playing with the elves. It was always just us," he quietly recalled.

"At least you had elves to play with growing up. I had my books to keep me company." Not that she was the least bit sorry about it. Her books were an escape, and she loved tearing off the wrapping paper to reveal her next adventure. Draco turned her in his arms, a lopsided smile on his face. She swallowed under the intensity of his stare before continuing, "I gather our Christmases are never going to be the same after this."

He nodded in agreement. "I would imagine so."

"There you two are," Harry said as he pushed open the door to join them. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he neared them, his newly-gifted gloves forgotten inside.

Hermione shook her head playfully and pulled Harry's hand into her own. Draco still held onto her waist, but his hands moved no further. The threat of being caught not was completely gone. She pulled Harry in for a kiss. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

A slow smile spread across Harry's face as he pulled back. "Happy Christmas, Hermione, Draco." An idea sparked in his green eyes. "It's been a rough couple of days. How about a way to remedy that?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished quietly. "You couldn't possibly mean…?"

Draco kissed her on the temple before releasing her, reading Harry's thoughts before she could. "Not that, nymph." Hermione stymied the embarrassing blush that stained her cheeks and blamed it on the winter chill. Draco threw his chin in Harry's direction. "You're on, Potter."

Before Hermione could ask what in the world they were up to, Harry smiled gleefully before dropping to his knees and shifting into his animal form. The transformation was seamless and effortless. Streaks of purplish black ran through ebony fur. Hermione was struck with the need to touch and see if it was as soft as it looked. It was.

A hum of magic beside her made look as Draco shifted into a large silver wolf she hadn't seen since that eventful night at Hogwarts. The two wolves played around her legs, goading her to join them. Harry nudged his head against the back of her knees.

"I'm not sure I can shift, Harry," she sighed, dejected. "Just because you two have found the ability to do so, doesn't necessarily mean I will." Both wolves jumped and yipped at her ankles before moving their frocklicking into the snowy yard; their excited calls reached deep into her chest. She stood by the rail forlornly watching the two roll around and play in the snow. Their paws kicked up dirt and snow as they tumbled like a couple of rowdy pups. Her heart yearned to join them; she just didn't know how to. What kind of  _Lupa_  was she if she couldn't join her mates? She stood on nervous feet, her fingers playing absently with the hem of her winter coat.

 _You have the wherewithal to master an ancient spell perfectly on the first try, yet you can't shift into your wolf form?_  Draco goaded as he wrestled with the scruff of Harry's neck.

Harry dislodged the silver wolf and pushed Draco to the ground.  _Concentrate, Hermione. I can't explain it, but I know you can do it._

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in concentration and opened the magic that rested beneath her rune. Oddly, she visualized the grassy field where she'd first met the Mother of Werewolves. Her wish to join her mates resounded at the forefront of her mind as she willed the magic to obey her. If she held the Rune of Wisdom and was truly this pack's  _Lupa_ , then she would have mastery over the power afforded to her. And right now, more than anything she wanted to … Suddenly, a hot flush of water doused her as the world shrunk upon itself. The water ran over her back and down her legs. She threw her hands out and met cold snow.

Opening her eyes, she saw small golden paws in place where her hands had been. She took in the shorter point of view and enhanced vision. Everything stood out in sharper focus. She could see the intricate design of each snowflake that fell around her, and could hear their soft landfalls.

 _I did it! I did it!_  Hermione jumped up and down excitedly, deftly landing on four legs instead of her usual two. It took her several shaky footsteps to get accommodate walking with four, instead of two appendages, but she fell into an easy pattern of which paw went where. Soon, she found herself trotting up to her mates.

Draco came up and nuzzled the side of her face.  _Knew you'd figure it out, sweetheart._

Hermione leapt and rolled spiritedly. Because of her warm fur, the snow hardly affected her.  _This is amazing. I can hear everything! I can see everything!_  She wanted to see it all, and experience it all. She wanted categorize every detail her sharper senses granted her. Hermione rolled to the ground with glee.

Harry rolled with her, and his head coming to rest on her light gold fur.  _And it's about to get better,_ he promised. He nudged her with his nose before standing and looking expectedly at Draco. Then, the ebony wolf took off through the thick brush that comprised the boundary of Grimmauld's backyard. Draco quickly ran after him and Hermione, not about to be left behind, trailed after Draco. She never knew that behind the thick bushes lay an unknown trail. The trio of wolves followed the trail's end to a quiet park. The park was empty as most had retired for the evening, full of holiday dinner and celebratory cheer. The small family of three, however, embraced the snowy night with unbridled joy.

The cold air was invigorating as Hermione pushed her new legs to the tilt. She pumped her legs to keep up with Draco and Harry and together, the three moved as brilliant blurs through the snowy night.

Frigid air stung never-before-used lungs as she ducked her head against the ice pelting her face. The snowflakes became mere white dots blurring past her vision, she ran so fast. Glancing over at Harry, she was not surprised to see him running alongside her, his tongue hilariously hanging out of the side of his mouth. She rolled golden amber eyes to herself and pushed herself further. Together, they leapt over benches and fallen trees branches with ease. Moving across the frozen ground came like second nature and her body moved in perfect succession.

The night air was raw and cold, but it did not deter her. If anything, it motivated her to run faster. Taking turns at point, the three ran in and around each other in a pattern that was instinctive. No book on ancient werewolf rituals could ever detail this. No textbook could ever describe what she was experiencing or how it came to her like breathing.

Hermione felt the call of a thousand wolves who ran before her spur on. Before she could think on it, the answer bubbled from her gut and she howled long and hard into the air. Beside her, she could hear Harry and Draco responded in kind. She howled again and wolves she did not recognize, but could feel beyond the boundary of the park, replied in sync. The night air stilled as the forest welcomed three of its own into the fold.

* * *

It was nearing midnight when the winded trio returned to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Flushed faces and quiet laughing could be heard as they discarded coats and hats. Their hands were red and freezing from traipsing across the hard earth, but they did not mind as they excitedly recounted tales of exuberant moves and the places they had seen. Quietly, they sat around the fireplace in an empty kitchen.

Hermione started a pot of water for hot chocolate as Harry and Draco argued over whom ran the fastest, and who'd jumped the highest. She wanted to join the good-natured ribbing; the excitement from their run had their adrenaline soaring.

As they huddled over mugs of hot chocolate, their adrenaline began to wane. In comfortable silence, they sipped from their mugs; random grins and rolls of the eyes were never far apart. Grimmauld was well and truly quiet now, except for the three awake in the cozy kitchen.

"So, are we moving forward with the ritual for Blaise and Daphne?" Draco asked after they had taken time to down the warm concoction. "I hate to press things, but we'll be back at school before we know it."

Just as quickly, Hermione's pleasant mood soured. "If you two are adamant about sending Draco back into a madman's clutches, then it  _would_  make sense for you to have assistance," she reluctantly agreed. She was not happy, but she would go along with their collective decision for the sake of the pack.

Harry's brows furrowed in question. "So does that mean they will take the Mark? I don't want to them to feel compelled to, and I'm sure they would object."

Draco paused in thought. "You-know-who is always looking for spies and those he could use. He'll be pleased I brought additional recruits, but they will most likely be subjected to small tasks or the sort. He wants to grow his ranks, but he doesn't want Dumbledore finding out he is turning so many of his students. One Death Eater at Hogwarts is enough for now," he remarked bitterly.

Hermione swallowed the last of his drink. "Well, if you are summoned, then they're to go with you. They don't have to be front and center, but I'm sure they can blend in with the crowd, if need be. I don't want you there longer than necessary." She left no room for argument.

"Crystal, sweetheat," Draco clipped as he took a swig of his hot cocoa.

"Then we should perform the ritual sooner rather than later," Hermione suggested once it was clear. "It will take some time to adjust to the bond, even if it is not as potent in strength as our own. It would be helpful to give them some time to acclimate to it all."

"I agree. Perhaps, tomorrow?" Draco answered with a yawn. Their late night exertions had begun to take its toll.

"Sounds good to me," Harry agreed.

The tinkling of the bell near the fireplace announced the arrival of a late night visitor. The fireplace whirred to life as large green flames appeared. The trio exchanged nervous glances before rising to meet Grimmauld's unexpected visitor. Luna Lovegood stepped out of the fireplace and dusted soot from her winter coat.

"I hope I'm not late," Luna announced airily to the room as she looked around in excitement. While Harry had expected Luna to stop by over the holidays, he found it most perplexing that she would choose such a late hour to make her appearance. It was half twelve. Luna certainly could not expect anyone to be awake at such an hour.

"Late for what?" Hermione asked. She too, found it peculiar that the fifth-year Ravenclaw would drop by at such an odd time.

"The ritual, of course," Luna replied easily enough.

"What ritual?" Harry stuttered at the same time Draco shot accusing eyes at him. The trio telepathically burst into accusations. They argued among themselves before Luna called their attention back to her.

"Please, don't be alarmed," she stated to the room. She continued speaking until their attention focused solely on her. "No one told me about the ritual. I just knew. I've been having dreams something terrible lately. Do you remember what I told you about the wrackspurts, Harry? Well in these dreams, I've seen awful things happen. I saw you three here, debating something called an  _ame de loups_? I saw myself, Blaise, and Daphne Greengrass tied together with a white ribbon and then nothing," she recounted the remnants of her dream to a stunned room. "Does that mean anything to you?" she asked expectantly.

"How did you know we were discussing the ritual?" Draco deflected for the time being. "At this very moment?"

She shrugged carelessly as she unwrapped her blue scarf. "I have the gift of sight, you see. But lately, my dreams have been difficult to interpret," she began, her eyes bright. "My mother used to have similar dreams when she was my age. I apologize if I startled you."

"What 'awful things' did you dream, Luna?" Hermione asked gravely.

"Death," Luna whispered. "I saw you three in the middle of a forest, defeated."

 


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so honored to announce that "The Soul of the Wolves" has been nominated in the H.B.I.C. best Hermione category in the 2018 Enchanted Awards. Thank you so much for nominating this fic. I am so humbled. Voting in the semi-finals begin March 18th, 2018 in the Granger Enchanted Survivors Facebook group, if you feel so inclined to vote. Thank you again, loves, and please do enjoy! X

Hermione scarcely slept the remainder of the evening. It wasn't the first time someone had predicted the death of someone she knew. The prophecy they recovered that June spoke of an impending duel between Harry and Voldemort; one of them had to die for the other to live. But this was her first time hearing a prophecy involving her own demise. Oddly enough, that wasn’t the reason for her current state of insomnia. She had faced the prospect of death before, but to hear it from Luna had sent her into a state of sleeplessness.

She tossed in her bed as she allowed the rest of Luna's prophetic dream to float to the forefront of her mind. The term 'white ribbon' repeated in her mind over and over and again. Why was that important? Why couldn't her mind let that go? She, Harry, and Draco were not tied with a white ribbon when they performed the ritual, so why would Luna state that she, Blaise, and Daphne would be? There must’ve been a reason for it; this ‘white ribbon’ had to play a role somehow.

Tossing her bed covers aside,  Hermione quietly left the room she was sharing with Ginny, and now Luna. Moving down the dark hall, she made her way to the Black family library and closed the door behind her. The familiar smell of parchment and ancient tomes calmed her like no other. She returned to the section where she’d found the _ame de loups_ ritual. She picked several tomes off the stacks before settling down to read. Over the course the night, she made two pots of tea. After five cups, two trips to the loo, and several hours of late night reading, she finally found it.

At sunrise she wanted to wake the others, eager to impart what she’d discovered, but waited patiently instead. By time the sun had well and truly broke over Grimmauld Place, she quickly dressed and called for Harry and Draco to rouse Blaise and get ready. She grabbed Luna and Daphne, before they had a chance to eat breakfast downstairs. While the Weasleys tucked into their morning meal, the small group of teenagers locked within Harry's room on the third floor. A smile broke across Blaise' face as he saw Luna step through the door behind Hermione. The two quickly exchanged a hug and a kiss, before Hermione started.

"I think I may have found something," Hermione confidently began. "You remember what you said last night, Luna? About being 'tied with a white ribbon'?" Hermione quickly recounted for Blaise and Daphne what occurred late last night. "I found it odd that you would use that phrasing and since I couldn't make any reason of it, I went to the library in the middle of the night." At this, no one looked surprised. Surging onward, "I was curious about the last _ame de loups_ that occurred in the eighteenth century. And I figured where better to start. Then I found something interesting in a separate text, aside from the original that detailed the ritual." She smirked, rather proud of her find. "According to the text, the last true leader of the _ame de loups_ was able to create to allies tied directly to her. She could create binds between werewolves that would answer directly to her, regardless if they belonged to another clan or not. Territorial wars erupted because she pulled so many wolves from clans not belonging to her. Once the 'tie' was completed though, they were forever tied to her. These allies could be called upon in a moment of need. Most, at the time, thought it a form of perpetual servitude, but the text delves deeper beyond slavery. It spoke of alliances, stronger than any pull of a clan or territory. These allies were tied with a white ribbon marking the sanctity of their bond to their Alpha." Hermione glanced meaningfully at Luna. "It was aptly titled the 'The Tie of the White Ribbon' or the 'White Tie' as it was known back then."

"How many were tied to the _ame de loups_ then? Does it say?" Harry inquired.

Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't. All it describes, are those who were bonded to the Rune holder and how blessed they were to be chosen. But I think this may be the answer we're looking for. Based on what Lupin told us, the _ame de loups_ may or may not work if we perform it for you three or any others. But the 'White Tie' may solve our problems."

"But we are not werewolves," Daphne interjected. "How will the 'Tie' work with us?" She indicated to herself, Blaise, and Luna.

Hermione opened the weathered tome and read aloud. " 'It is through the power of the Rune that the caster calls forth those she has chosen to serve. They will answer her call, protect her mates and through it, be granted blessings from the Lupine Gods.' " Hermione looked to Harry and Draco over the edge of the book. "I think I should be able to cast this.”

Harry did not doubt her ability, but found the question easily running past his lips, “Why?”

Hermione closed the book and observed her mates. “The Mother of Werewolves told me there was a reason why our ritual was successful where others have failed before us. There’s a reason why our ..” Here, she indicated to Harry, Draco and then herself. “... abilities have shifted and grown since this summer.”

“You’re the pull to pack we've felt recently,” Draco surmised on a breath as he stared at her in a new light. It wasn’t hard to miss the predatory glare in his grey eyes.

Hermione swallowed, feeling very much like prey. “It would seem so.” 

“You're the Rune holder who can cast the spell,” Harry wondered aloud. “You’re our _Alpha_?”

“I believe the correct term, is _Lupa,_  but yes, that is correct,” she amended, holding the book close to her chest.

  
"Wait. Before we agree to anything, I'm need more information," Blaise interjected. Just because the others trusted her find so completely, did not mean he did. "What does all of this have to do with Daph, Luna and I? We're not about to go into this blindly just because Luna had a dream." He sent an apologetic look to his girlfriend. "No offense, dove."

"None taken," Luna replied in step.

Hermione addressed the group, "Seeing how no one is alive any longer to speak on the matter, I can only go on what I've read and we’ve experienced. You told us you wanted a way to safely get through this war. We’ve discussed performing the ritual for you and Daphne. And Luna, now, it would seem, but it won’t be possible. However, this ‘White Tie’ will grant you the protection you seek. According to what I’ve read, the bonded were afforded strengths of their own along with an elongated lifespan, I'm guessing to serve the holder of the Rune as long as she lived, but still, it is a theory." She looked between Harry and Draco and swallowing, remembering those first few days after the ritual last summer. "If it is anything like the _ame de loups_ , there will be an adjustment period." She cleared her throat, unwilling to explain further.

"I think we should perform it," Luna announced as everyone turned toward the observant Ravenclaw. She had been watching the interaction and frankly, found it fascinating. She gingerly took Blaise's hand into her own and squeezed. "Harry, Draco, and Hermione need our help. If this is one way to secure it, then we should do it." She smiled brightly to Blaise before turning to Daphne. "Don't you agree?"

Daphne worried her lip, clearly undecided. "I want to help." She looked to the trio. "Really, I do, but this is a lot you are asking of us," she spoke gravely. 

Hermione nodded in understanding. Responsibility she did not ask for, was growing ever larger on her shoulders. Should she take in three more into her fold? She glanced at Draco and Harry before answering Daphne. "I will not ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. Either of you. I won't lie. It would be a tremendous help to Draco, as well as Harry and myself -" At the blond's mention, Draco's mouth dropped into a frown, upset at being exemplified as needing of assistance. "But I understand it is a lot to ask of anyone. It's frightening taking on the unknown, but -" A sure smile spread before Hermione could stop it. "But I can’t describe what you're given in return is. You wouldn't walk this journey alone, and there's comfort knowing that two others are walking with you. For life."

Daphne stopped pulling nervously at her hands, pausing at her words. "But what about Astoria? And my family? You are asking me to leave them behind."

"I'm not asking to do anything, Daphne," Hermione insisted. "Perhaps, we can find your sister and guarantee her safety as well. If she were to ask it of me, I would not turn her away." Hermione looked pointedly at the three of them. Words she did not know, but felt as familiar as the back of her hand rushed forth before she could think on them. "But know this: if you are willing to serve, you will belong to me always. And I will return the favor in kind." A light breeze ran through the room at the Lupa’s release of power. The ritual had begun, even if Hermione hadn't consciously tried to initiate it. It was time for Blaise, Luna, and Daphne to give their answer.

Blaise looked to the hand holding Luna's and very carefully, opened his free hand to Daphne's in question. Daphne looked at it, swallowed, but stepped forward and took the pre-offered hand into her own. With a deep exhale, Blaise nodded. "We are ready to serve," Blaise spoke the required words.

Hermione marveled at how they knew exactly what to say, although she had not told them how to perform the ritual. It  was innate, and instinctual between the caster and the receiver. The awakening of the _Lupa within_ granted her powers long dormant. The _ame de loups_ bloomed to life as it grew to encompass the newcomers.

Hermione conjured a long white ribbon and first wrapped a portion around Luna's wrist several times, before doing the same with Blaise' hand. Poor Blaise would be tied on both sides with one hand bound to Luna, and another to Daphne. Hermione finished off the last of the ribbon around Daphne's wrist. Her other hand was left free.

"Will you swear to protect me and what is mine for duration of your lives?" Hermione asked. A swirl of magic rustled her clothes as she turned her Vinewood wand upon herself and silently cut the palm that held the Rune of Wisdom. Blood trickled from the shallow cut.

"We will," Luna answered firmly as Hermione placed her bloody hand over the white ribbon ensnaring her wrist. The ribbon glowed and hummed with magic as it stained red.

She moved to Blaise next. "Will you swear to come to my aid or the aid of my mates as need should arise?"

Blaise looked her in the eye. Hermione gathered the Italian had never seen the manifestation of her power. The same fear she felt when she took in Harry's transformed eyes reflected in Blaise now. He nodded anyway and solemnly replied, "We will." Hermione placed her bloody hand over Blaise' wrist and cemented the 'Tie' further. There was just one last anchor to secure.

Stopping in front of Daphne, Hermione regarded the Slytherin. Her curls and clothes now billowed around her body. Daphne’s long, blonde hair also moved in the presence of her power. "And will you swear to forsake all other clans, tribes, or territories until death, or I so release you?"

Gone was the apprehension Hermione noted earlier. In her place, stood a young woman full of determination. The fear was there, yes, but something _more_ pushed her to respond. Hermione could sympathize; she had never been one to believe in fate and despite everything she had experienced, she still found the idea of fate a load of rubbish. But even Hermione would be hard pressed to deny its pull, try as she had all those months ago.

Daphne nodded, her cornflower blue eyes steadfast. "We will."

With her spoken vow, Hermione grabbed Daphne's intertwined wrist with Blaise and sealed their vows with blood. Daphne shut her eyes against some unknown force that Hermione could not feel. She dropped to her knees before Hermione.

Soon, Blaise and Luna followed suit and dropped to their knees, their eyes screwed shut in discomfort or pain, Hermione could not tell. She stood before them, power and heat behind her eyelids. “I hear your vow and welcome you, my kin. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten." At the mention of 'kin', the three gave a great yell before they fell forward on their hands and promptly shifted to their true form: a wolf.

The transformation was sharp and forced. She had induced a transformation at Hogwarts and from Draco's recollection of the event, Hermione knew it something painful. After the sounds of bones popping and skins shifting, Hermione stared at three wolves in the room, panting softly from the exertion of shifting so suddenly.

Their wolf manifestations were a sight to behold. Daphne's fur was the same strawberry blonde as her hair. Even in her animal form, she held the easy elegance she always had at school. Beside her, Blaise had transformed into a tan wolf with a stripe of midnight running from the top of his head to the end of his tail. Luna, strangely enough, sat on her hunches, clearly over the pain and shock (or ignoring it) of the abrupt transformation. Pale blond fur covered her lithe form, but her paws and legs looked like they had been dipped in molten silver.

Draco and Harry glanced at each other. _Do you suppose they can hear us?_ Draco asked to Harry.

Hermione replied to her mate. _They answer to me alone. They are closed off from our bond and can't hear our communications._

 _Then how will we be able to call them? If we need help?_ Draco challenged.

Hermione turned to face her mates, piercing them both with the power reflected in her eyes. "They cannot interfere with what is mine, unless I deem it so." Oddly, she spoke in a double-layered voice. Wrapped beneath her normal tenor, was a melodic voice that sounded both old and young alike. Vaguely, she was reminded of the Mother of Werewolves. "They will protect you,” she continued in a voice that sound older than her seventeen years.  “They will serve you, but it will be at my bidding."

With that, Hermione’s eyes blinked back to their placid brown as the 'White Tie' was initiated. She turned to the trio of wolves who sat at attention, ready to be commanded. With a nod of her head, the wolves shifted back to the witches and wizard they recognized.

Blaise, Luna, and Daphne regarded each other and varying emotions flitted across their faces. Hermione gathered from their bemused expressions they could now hear each other within their minds. Oh yes, she remembered the shock of that feeling quite well. Anticipating what was coming next, she sought to impart advice in any way she could. There wasn’t a manual for how to maneuver in such instances and she knew their bond would have to be strengthened and nurtured in their own way. She just connected them; they would have to complete it.

Hermione walked over to Luna to pull the girl to the side, which was impossible since Luna's wrist was still tied to Blaise'. As quietly as she could, Hermione asked the younger witch. "Are you familiar with the _Contraceptive_ charm?" She tried to lower her voice, but knew in a room full of teenagers with heightened hearing, it was a lost cause. She waited for Luna to answer, so she could leave before her cheeks burned in embarrassment.

"I am. Are you suggesting that I perform the _Contraceptive_ charm on Daphne and myself?" Luna asked in a normal voice, not at all trying to conceal their intimate conversation.

Hermione flustered as suggestive looks and rogue smirks were thrown her way. Only Daphne's eyebrows drew down in confusion. Hermione feigned ignorance before sharply turning to exit the room, her face uncomfortably hot.

"Thank you anyway, Hermione. I'll be sure to keep it in mind when the time comes," Luna replied to her back. Hermione could not reach the door fast enough. She spoke facing the door, not wanting to catch eyes with anyone right now. "I'll silence the room for you. We'll make sure you're…uh…not disturbed for the remainder of the day." Hermione tugged on a giddy Draco, who seemed reluctant to leave. "Come on!" she pushed the blond through the door.

Draco gave a parting shot of "Have fun, you three!" With a smirk and a wave, he disappeared with Hermione and Harry out of the room.

* * *

 

Narcissa Malfoy's first thought upon awakening was she had died and gone to hell. Apparently, the Gods had seen fit to punish her by placing her in this most ghastly room. The ceiling was absolutely horrid. It obviously had been restored, but there were cobwebs in the corners, the drab paint was peeling, and she was lying on the most uncomfortable mattress ever.

Her limbs were leaden and when she opened her mouth to speak, a garbled moan came forth, evidence of underuse. Arms wrapped around her back and pulled her into a sitting position.

"Here, drink this. It will help." A cup materialized in her view and with assistance, she sipped carefully. Once her body's need for water took over, she greedily drank from the cup and choked it contents down. Merlin, how long had she been asleep?

"Careful. You must sip slowly," a calm voice sounded above her.

Narcissa looked up to see who was tending to her and blinked at the dusty brown mop of Remus J. Lupin. She sat on the bed and his arms left her, but instead of retreating completely, they lay on either side of her. But that was a poor choice. Without his support, she tumbled to the bed, her body too weak to support her frame.

"I got you." Once more, strong arms encircled her and set her against the headboard.

While she was grateful for the assistance, she was in shock as to one, why Remus Lupin was there, and two, why she had so little strength. "Take your hands off of me!" At her command, Remus immediately moved away from her. He retreated from the bed and made to stand next to her.

"I only meant to help. I meant nothing untoward." Remus peered at her closely, searching for recognition or something else. Her gaze dropped to her hands against the unease of his stare.

She pulled her blankets over her chest, despite the fact that she was fully clothed. "I'm afraid I don't know you well enough for you to be 'assisting' in such a manner." She ran a hand over her hair only to find it in disarray and quickly bit her lip in thought. What was the last thing she remembered? How did she end up here?

"Do you remember how you ended up here, Narcissa?" Remus sighed as he pulled up a chair and sat wearily in it.

Tears gathered in her eyes. She had to blink rapidly to keep them from falling. "I was at the Manor," she began slowly. "Greyback, the werewolf… Voldemort… he attacked me. Draco was there, but was unable to reach me. He was the last thing I remember…" she trailed off as a memory replayed behind her eyes. Tears fell in earnest down her cheeks.

"Yes, you were attacked. Draco brought you here, to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place: the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?" Remus watched as recognition flooded over her.

"My aunt's family home?" Narcissa looked around at the state of disrepair the house had fallen into. How much had changed since she’d last visited in her youth! "Why would he bring me here?"

"Your son is working with the Order of the Phoenix, Narcissa. He has been for some time. He brought you here after your injury." Remus hesitated briefly. "Your injury was beyond what he could heal." He tried to reach for her hand, but she pulled it away sharply. "Beyond what anyone could heal." She missed the expression of hurt that darted across his face, but he retracted his hand nonetheless.

Her chest heaved with quick breaths as her eyes darted everywhere but to him. She shook her head and flaxen stands of white gold fell around her shoulders. "No," she breathed.

"Narcissa, your son was distraught at the thought of losing you. It was the only thing he could do."

"No!"

"I was able to heal you with some assistance from Ms. Granger, but…"

"NO! I know what you are going to say and I don't want to hear it." Narcissa threw back the covers and made to stand. She took one step before tripping over herself. She cursed this weakened state as she fell to the floor.

Remus rushed around the bed. "Please get back in the bed, Narcissa. Your body is still recovering from the attack."

She pushed him away from her. Pulling on the bedspread, she lifted herself to a standing position. "Get away from me! I need to get back to the Manor, he'll … he's going to be looking for me when he comes home," Narcissa choked on emotion clogging her throat. She had to be there when Lucius came home. He would be waiting for her, his lovely, pure-blooded wife; his diseased-free bride of nearly twenty years.

"Narcissa."

"I'm sure if I just… Remove your hands from me at once!"

Remus had pulled her him into again and she struggled against his chest. "Narcissa!" Remus tightened his hold, afraid to hurt her.

She sagged against him, her body no longer able to keep up the physical fight. If she fought hard enough… Her breathing went erratic as she struggled to deny what he was trying to say.

"You are going to shift into a werewolf— " Remus began once she had calmed somewhat, but with the confirmation she tipped.

"NO!" She gathered her strength and pushed him off of her once more. However, this left her without something to hold onto and she tumbled to the wooden floor. Tears of disbelief ran down her cheeks, her nose uncharacteristically red as she cried.

She curled up on the floor.  The only thing in her life worthwhile, besides her son, faded from view. Her blood, that one thing that made her special, made her pure, was now forever tainted by a creature's venom coursing her veins.

She tore the bandage off her neck, the need too great to remove all reminders of that vile animal's assault upon her. The wound was closed, but the dressing stung the delicate skin of her neck as she ripped it away mercilessly. Her arms ran against something odd beneath her blouse. Something that bunched when she moved. Pulling the neck of her shirt open, she saw another set of dressings just above her heart.

She hastily removed those dressings as well, except the wound beneath it was not healed fully. A set of bite marks she did not remember receiving sat just atop her left breast. "What…. what is this?" She pulled the last of the dressings away, disbelieving what she was seeing. "Has he marked me?" she asked in horror. She scooted away along the floor until her back hit the nearest wall; as if the further she could move away from the truth, the less real it would be.

Remus shook his head. "No, he has not."

More tears fell as she watched that perfect life, the hope that this nightmare would end when her husband returned home and when that monster was destroyed, disappeared before her very eyes. "Then who would do this to me!?" she cried, a mixture of anger and despair. Her head fell into her hands as she pressed the heel of her hand into her eyes.

The breaking of her heart was too loud to hear anything else. A fragile bond she knew nothing about told her someone else's heart was breaking right alongside her, but she was too caught in her grief to recognize it.

"I did," a small voice reached her ears. She looked up to see Remus crying with her.

Even as he tried to explain,, she could not see it. The Mark beneath her chest ached with a pain unlike any other and she mourned. And even though she refused to see it, Remus grieved beside her. The rest of the afternoon passed in like manner. Narcissa sat in a corner, seeing nothing, as her wails softened into small hiccoughs. Draco tried to speak with her, but even her darling son was not enough to pull her from her self-imposed shock. Draco sat with her for a few hours. Before he left the room, Draco sent a heated glare Remus' way, but said nothing.

Narcissa remained in her corner of a room, in an unfamiliar house, a world away from what she had grown accustomed to. She prayed for unconsciousness to steal her away. She did not take the pre-offered food or drink Remus presented her; it held no appeal now.

Only when the sun's shadow moved across the worn draperies and bathed the room in grey, did she finally fall into a fitful sleep. Remus did not move from side her all day.

* * *

It was half past ten, but Harry found himself wide awake. Their 'pack’ as Hermione had described it, grew from three to six over the course of a day. What bothered him the most was that neither Blaise, Daphne, nor Luna had been given much of a choice or time to discuss the matter. Luna, as always, had jumped at the opportunity to help and the others quickly followed suit. But he could see Daphne’s apprehension without having to read it through a telepathic bond. 

Now Hermione was responsible for them all. He had asked her to help this past summer, but he wanted her safe during the war they all knew was coming. But now, she enmeshed in this with him even more.

The Rune of Power glowed in response to his thoughts and he closed his hand into a fist. Why had the Lupine Gods given him this Rune? What could a sixteen year-old wizard possibly know what to do with the Rune of Power? And what was worse, he couldn't speak to anyone who might have knowledge about this. He couldn't go to Dumbledore, and Lupin didn't know much else outside of fables and lore.

  
He dozed lightly in the wing-back chair before he found himself on a grassy plain. Alone, he looked for his mates, but they would not be joining him on the astral plane tonight. However, he wasn’t alone. 

“The-Boy-Who-Lived is now the Mate-Who-Serves. I find the thought highly amusing, no?”

The Mother of Werewolves materialized into view beside Harry. The woman with bright yellow eyes tracked over Harry’s face and down to his bare feet. “You are troubled?”

“Why did you give us this?” He held up the Rune of Power, and hotly demanded answers. “Hermione now has five of us to protect.”

The woman smiled, pleased at the announcement. “She’s finally coming into her own. Good.” The woman turned and began a slow gait to nowhere. Harry had no choice but to follow. “I sense her hesitance to follow where fate will lead her. It is up to you, to guide her and to protect her.” Here, she turned and plucked Harry’s hand from his side. She traced the Rune of Power across his palm. “This will assist you.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why did you give us this? What does all of this mean?”

The woman laughed. The melodic sound reminded him of Hermione’s double-layered voice when she perform the ‘White Tie.’ “My dear, Lycaon, I did not give you anything. What you choose to do with the Rune of Power is up to you.” She folder Harry’s palm inward, “Your journey lies before you. Help her find her path while there still is time.”

Harry jerked awake, back in the wing-back chair at Grimmauld Place. Ginny lay on the couch across from him, unaware of the trip he’d just had. A hot flash burned his palm and he knew something was wrong the moment a loud bang sounded outside the front door. The boom echoed throughout the first floor.

The explosion threw the curtains off of Walburga Black's portrait and the old matron started raving 'kill the blood traitors' and 'destroy the mudboods.’ That was all the warning they had.

Arthur and Bill came flying out of the kitchen soon after the first explosion. The second explosion had them all reeling back as splinters of wood flew every way. The thick smell of smoke and ash permeated the hallway entrance and living room. His vision greatly reduced, Harry had a split second to throw Ginny behind him, his wand arm throwing a shield up against the purple and red jets of light that headed their way. Smoke and debris billowed from the doorway entrance as cloaked figures stormed into the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Ginny tugged on Harry's jumper until he fell behind the sofa as a barrage of spells hit the aged-torn fabric. Surprise briefly lit his features. Through the haze of confusion, Harry could make out Bill and Arthur Weasley sending their own volley in alternating fashion. They stood on either side of the entrance to the kitchen, the sight advantage theirs, as more spells cracked the wallpaper above Harry. As chips of plaster and dust rained onto Harry and Ginny's heads, he made eye contact with Arthur who nodded grimly. They were sitting ducks; they had to get out of there.

From his viewpoint, Harry could make out booted feet, hidden beneath black robes as the intruders made their way across the floor and up the stairs. Harry quickly lifted over the couch to throw his own attack and was greeted with a familiar ivory bone mask before he dropped down to the ground. Green jets struck the wall where his head had been.

 _Hermione! Draco! Grimmauld's under attack — you both need to get out of here!_ Harry forewarned his mates, as if they couldn't feel his fear and anxiety coursing through his veins already.

Ginny crawled over to him, her wand in hand. 'Death Eaters' she mouthed in shock, though it would do no good to be quiet now, Harry ruefully thought. Shouting from both sides roared around them and if someone did not know by now that Grimmauld was under fire, they were either unconscious or dead.

He nodded grimly to the red-head and signaled towards the kitchen door an arm's length away. Arthur caught sight of Harry  and signaled to Bill across from him. Pushing Ginny to make a go of it first, Harry quickly stood up to draw the Death Eater's fire as Arthur and Bill fired spell after spell. Bill threw up a shield as soon as his sister half-ran, half-crouched through the entryway.

Screams could be heard from somewhere upstairs. Harry's heart clenched as he thought of the others, caught unaware like him. Their seemingly safe dwelling was suddenly under fire. He opened the link to his mates as another set of screams broke through the house.

 _Harry!_ Hermione yelled in his mind, her voice filled with dread.

 _Where are you?_  He cried back to her.

 _Daphne, Luna, and I are trapped on the second floor bedroom. Ron is caught inside his bedroom down the hall; we can't get through to him_.

Harry made the trek Ginny completed before him. He threw up his own shield charm as Arthur and Bill covered for him. He squeezed through their frames at the entryway and took refuge inside the kitchen. Ginny stood frozen, her eyes betraying the fear Harry felt. This was real; this was happening. They all knew war was upon them, but no one anticipated it hitting them so soon. At Grimmauld. During the holidays.

Draco's shout in his head drew Harry's thoughts upward. _Blaise and I are picking them off as they come up the stairs, but there's too many of them,_ Draco informed them. _We're on the third floor landing._

 _Draco, can you reach Hermione?_  Harry asked.

 _No!_ Hermione's shrill voice interrupted them. _He can't be seen, Harry. If they see Draco here at Grimmauld, they'll know he's a spy. We can't risk them informing Voldemort._

 _I could bloody care less!_ Draco roared in their heads. Explosions and spells sounded a floor above. Harry and Ginny turned their heads skyward as they imagined what was happening up the stairs.

Harry pulled Ginny towards the kitchen fireplace. "Ginny, Floo back to Hogwarts. Inform Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall what's happened." She started to protest, but Harry silenced her. "Death Eaters can't follow you onto school grounds. Hurry!"

She turned to him as Harry hurriedly grabbed a handful of floo powder, ready to send her away from the melee. "What about my brother? And my mother?" Panic had her voice shaking.

Just then, two cracks of Apparition signaled the arrival of Fred and George into the kitchen. They immediately provided back-up to Bill and Arthur.

"We'll get them out of here, I promise." With a quick hug, Harry hastily bid her goodbye before he activated the Floo network. With a whirl of green flame, Ginny was gone. Giving a last glance to the fireplace, Harry pulled Fred away. The doorway Arthur and Bill stood at had whittled away to cracked wood and splintering rubble. Their advantage was slipping.

"Ron, your mum and the girls are on the second floor. Can you Apparate me to the third floor?"

Fred nodded. "Sure, but what about Bill and me dad?"

Harry looked to them both. "Tell them to Apparate to the second and third floors. The others need back-up there. Your mum…" Harry quietly trailed off.

"But if we leave the first floor, then they'll…"

"The house is already lost!" Harry implored. "We're only slowing them down. The less wands we have upstairs, the more likely the others won't be able to hold them off. I'm more concerned with getting the others to safety, then saving the house. Apparate me upstairs and then tell the others to leave it. Ginny's gone through the Floo already."

Fred's mouth dropped into an intense frown that said while he didn't agree, he would book no room for argument. "Okay. Hold on."

Harry grabbed Fred's arm and with a quick squeeze into nothing, Harry left the kitchen. When his feet hit the ground again, he was on the landing beside Blaise and Draco. Harry immediately crouched down beside Draco. Blaise fired another stunner onto the landing below him, but it was useless. As soon one Death Eater was stunned, another came from below to revive their comrade.

"Potter!" Draco called through his teeth. "We have to get down there!"

Fred Apparated away, presumably back to the kitchen to pass the message to his brothers and father.

"I know!" Harry raked a hand through his hair, damp with apprehension and nerves. Specks of wall plaster fell from his hair. "But they'll pick us off as soon as we come down the stairs. At least we have an advantage up here."

"That's not good enough," Draco argued.

"I don't like it any better than you, but what else have we got? You go down there and you'll ruin your cover, I go down there and we'll expose the _ame de loups_."

Blaise crouched between them. "Let me go."

"No!" Draco protested.

"If they see you, you're in the same boat as Draco," Harry replied desperately. "You'll never be able to accompany Draco to the Dark Court."

All three of them turned to peer at the landing below as an ominous roar filled the hallway. A loud silence spread over the floor before a giant roar could be heard. A large wave crested and crashed against the door of the girls' bedroom. Harry's eyes widened as he took in the unbelievable scene before him.

A scream rung out in the night.

A shout followed by a curse.

They had to get down there. Now.

* * *

Hermione pushed closer to the frame of the overturned bed she used as cover. Luna huddled close-by and across the room, Daphne hid behind an overturned wardrobe. The girl covered her head as spell after spell battered the dresser. Daphne screamed as a jet of light blasted away a side of the wardrobe, whittling her cover bit by bit. Soon, there would not be any cover left for the witch to hide behind. Hermione sat up and threw a counter curse at the doorway, but the Death Eaters retreated from the door frame, rendering her spell useless.

"Come out, pathetic mudblood and we promise we won't hurt you," a Death Eater sneered into their room from the hallway.

"Much!" Another crowed, as others cackled dangerously. Another round of spells hit the bed and the wardrobe and Hermione ducked and looked around in distress. Without a way out, they were sitting ducks.

The 'White Tie' was too new for either witch to know the extent of its power. It had been barely a full day since it was cemented. Beside basic defense spells Luna had learned from Dumbledore's Army, coupled with whatever spells Daphne knew from Hogwarts, neither possessed the knowledge to defend in battle.

Her face marked in fierce determination, Hermione sat up. Sweaty hands stuck to the side of the bed frame. Once more, she squeezed the old mattress as she reminded herself of whom she was doing this for.

She made to stand and faced the doorway. "I'm right here,” she called, bravely.

Hermione was never one to have others fight in her stead anyway. Stepping forward, she would protect her own defenders. Or at least give them cover until Harry and the others could slow the attack.

The first spell she deflected easily enough. It ricocheted and knocked a portrait off the wall. Two more fired at her and she threw her arm forward in an underhanded arc, the magic reflecting off her shield. The Rune of Wisdom pulsed beneath the hand that gripped her vinewood wand. While before she had tried to staunch its release, its effects harmful and unknown; tonight, she unleashed the power that she had been holding at bay. Her only thought was to defend.

With that one thought the protected became the protector. Fire burned behind her eyes and hot-white light burst forth; the light immediately changed to a clear liquid. A mountainous wave formed from her wand and it sailed forward, engulfing the entire room. It flooded the Death Eaters who had been foolish enough to step through the doorway. The excess spilled off their robes and onto the floor. There was a moment where all three were confused from being doused with water, when they suddenly brought their arms up to their faces. They howled in pain.

It wasn’t mere water they had been drenched in.

The clear liquid ate away at their robes and the flesh underneath. It melted the ivory of their masks and seeped into the tender flesh of their face. Gods, this magic was more powerful than she thought.

Hermione lowered her wand, the need to defend herself no longer apparent as three figures writhed to the floor in pain. Scattering could be heard down the hall. Hermione knew the others had retreated in fear. They valued their lives more than trying to catch her.

She watched with fear as three men lay on the floor, robes torn and shredded to ribbons as acid tore at precious skin and mingled with the blood and tissue it protected. She wasn't trying to torture them; she only wanted to protect herself. She did not want this. With a shaking hand, Hermione raised her wand and tried to justify the words that felt hollow in her throat.

Steadying her arm, her wandpoint shook just barely. She swallowed her resolve and with a quick prayer for forgiveness, she spoke the Unforgivable. " _Avada Kedavra_!" The evilness that was the Killing Curse ripped a tear from her toes to her arm as it poured from her wand. One quick jet of green and the man's torment ended. She quickly adjusted her aim and shouted the curse twice more. Each seared her soul a little bit more. All at once, the men lay still at her feet. She took a step back, lest the acid/blood mixture jump onto her, but in a corner of her mind, she knew her magic would not harm her.

Her soul ached with the knowledge that she had killed, three times over. The knowledge that she _could_ kill had her dropping to her knees. Hermione sunk to the floor just as Harry and Draco burst through the doorway.

She watched through a distorted vacuum as Harry ran towards her, his mouth shouting something her cottoned up ears couldn't hear. Draco behind him turned and fired at something she could not see, his attention diverted for the moment. The only thing she focused on was the men across the floor from her. Their flesh red and disfigured from acid burns; their eyes, open and forever staring at the ceiling. Their deaths pushed her further into the floor and as soon as Harry skidded to his knees beside her, she bent over and retched. She heaved until nothing but painful stomach bile was left, and then she emptied that, too. She vomited all over the floor and Harry's shoes. He pulled her to her feet and suddenly her hearing was back, as if someone had suddenly decided to unmute her life. Harry did not comment on the sick on his shoes.

"We have to get out of here, now!" Harry yanked her to her feet, before gesturing to Daphne and Luna behind her.

Right, this was war. Breakdowns could be saved for later. There was no time to grab jackets or coats as they ran out the bedroom in their dressing robes and night clothes, the need for survival greater than the need for decency.

As soon as Harry walked into the hallway, he lurched back into the room, falling onto the girls behind him. A  jet of green light had been a hair's length away from his head. "Fuck!" he snarled at the close call. He whirled around the doorway and fired a counter of his own before leaning against the wall. "Where is the Order? They should have arrived by now."

"I'm sure they're on their way," Hermione offered, trying to push the shakiness from her voice. This was war, there was going to be fatalities. It was either them or her friends, she repeated to herself as shock started to creep into her fingers. She grasped her wand even tighter.

"How many are there?" Daphne asked.

Harry shook his head. "Can't tell." He whirled around the doorjamb again, firing a black jet followed by another. It seemed to be directed at the stairs. "I've counted ten, maybe twelve so far."

"Where are the others?" Luna joined Harry on the wall. Once he would fire and retreat, she would fire behind him, while he covered her. She jumped back as a cackling blue jet sailed into the room. It struck the wall with a deafening crack and the burnt wall, splintered even further.

The opponents they dueled suddenly fell face forward, wrapped in binds, as Blaise and Draco came from behind. They joined the others in what was left of the girls' bedroom, their chests heaving with exertion. Black smoke too thick to maneuver through filled the hallway.

"Weasley and his mother are out. I think everyone else Apparated once they were in the clear," Blaise huffed. "But more Death Eaters are coming in downstairs. Part of the house is on fire."

Draco looked at Harry. "The house is overrun, Potter. Calvary or not, we can't sit here and wait." Draco moved towards the window, sneering at the Dark Mark floating in the night sky above them.

Before Harry could respond, someone fired a _Confringo_ at the window after Draco moved away from it. The window exploded, taking with it the frame and part of the wall. Everyone turned towards Daphne, whose wand smoldered with remnants of the blasting spell.

"I suggest we leave then before they return." Daphne headed towards the window.

Draco smirked at her. "Right. Cushioning charms on your landing. It's two stories down," Draco ordered. He helped Daphne through the makeshift opening, and after Luna and Hermione jumped out into the night air, the boys quickly followed in like manner.

The December night air was unforgiving, but at least they were alive to feel it. Harry turned back towards his Godfather's home, blasted apart and set ablaze. If the Order wasn't here by now, the Ministry would be arriving soon to investigate the Mark and a magical fire in a Muggle neighborhood. As they headed for the line of bushes Draco, Hermione, and he had escaped through just a day ago, Harry turned to Draco in a panic.

"Draco, your mother!"

"Lupin Apparated them out as soon as the first explosion sounded. I checked. Wherever he's taken her, I'm sure they are safe for the moment." Draco pulled Harry away from the house as the flames grew.

Harry pushed past the bushes, his wand ready for the next confrontation should Death Eaters choose to meet his pack here on the streets. He figured since no one had attacked them by now, they were safe for the time being.

"Let's hope it’s safe, shall we?" Harry sarcastically remarked. "Someone betrayed our location to You-Know-Who tonight." Harry looked at the grim faces following behind him. The girls wore tattered dressing gowns, their wands tight against their body. Harry pulled Hermione in close, after seeing her shiver. Draco offered his arm to Daphne as Blaise tucked Luna in beside him.

"But Grimmauld's under a _Fidelius_ charm and unplottable. How would they even know where it was?" Hermione asked, her teeth chattering from the cold and waning adrenaline.

Harry wandlessly secured a warming charm over the group as they silently pondered that question. They made their way through the night, a list of suspects cataloged in their collective mind.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

The dawn of a New Year was spent in hiding and what little joy they would have found over the holidays was snatched away after the surprise attack on Grimmauld. Through a series of Floo calls with scattered members of the Order, Harry found out, thankfully, everyone had escaped alive. Apart from minor injuries, no one was lost. The Weasleys retreated to the Burrow, while the  _ame de loups_  and the White Tie stayed hidden away in the city at marital property acquired by Blaise' mother.

Harry mourned that his Godfather's house was overrun. It was his last physical connection to his late Godfather. But if Sirius were alive, he would be thankful that Harry and his friends had made it out unscathed, so he did not dwell on what he could not change.

The new term resumed rather demurely.  _The Prophet_  wrote extensively about the attack on Grimmauld, the latest in a seemingly random pattern of attacks. Whispers followed Harry in the corridors of Hogwarts about possible mentions of where Voldemort and his Death Eaters would strike next. A shadow of the inevitable covered them all, whether they were fighting this war or trying to outrun its influences.

Harry fiddled with a piece of peppermint as he addressed Hogwarts' Headmaster across the room. "Sir, is it possible Snape could have leaked the location of Headquarters to Voldemort?"

Startled from his thoughts, Dumbledore addressed Harry. "Why anything is possible, Harry, but if you are asking my opinion on the matter, I would say no. Professor Snape is not the one you are looking for."

Harry sought to control his anger. "We barely made it out of there with our lives. I know Draco wouldn't have, and his mother was barely conscious when he brought her there. Who else among us has access to Voldemort and could have possibly informed him?"

"I'm not sure, Harry. When Ms. Weasley informed me of the attack, I was surprised as I'm sure you were. I sent the rest of the Order to Grimmauld as soon as I could, but by time they had arrived, you were gone and Grimmauld was destroyed."

"Can it be salvaged?"

"I believe the question should be asking is why would you want it to be? As you said, Voldemort is aware of its location now. To return and assume the protections it once provided would prove foolhardy at best."

"But where will the Order meet now?"

Dumbledore walked slowly towards the upset wizard, his hands clasped behind his back. "Another safe house, I'm sure. Something will be arranged." He paused. "Harry, has it occurred to you why Voldemort pursues you so relentlessly?"

Harry shrugged, nonplussed. "He's scared of a prophecy that says I am to defeat him."

"More than that, my dear boy." Dumbledore lead them towards his pensieve, which floated out from a side wall.

"Voldemort lacks what you have in spades, Harry. The protection granted by your mother isn't the only thing that spared you that fateful night in Godric's Hollow."

"What do you mean?" Harry inquired, but Dumbledore just pulled a memory from his stores and emptied it into the pensieve. Seeing how Dumbledore was not going to answer his question directly, Harry stepped forward and prepared himself for another visit to the past.

Harry entered and immediately was taken deep into Dumbledore's memory. He found himself standing behind Dumbledore in his office at Hogwarts, a dapper, young Tom Riddle before him. Tom was no longer a student, for he wasn't dressed in the standard Hogwarts uniform, but professional robes. He lounged comfortably within Dumbledore's office.

Aside from the shorter beard, Dumbledore looked the same then as he did now. "I'm afraid what you seek, Tom, is unattainable," memory Dumbledore began. "I know of no such spell that grants eternal life. As a wizard, your life is already extended from the magical properties that course through your veins. But magical being or not, no one is capable of living forever."

The handsome Tom Riddle shook his head, a tight smirk on his lips. "But that's just the point, sir. We are not mere Muggles; what is impossible to them, is easily attainable for us. Perhaps a strong enough wizard has not been able to accomplish such a feat," Tom vaguely suggested with a shrug.

Dumbledore did not miss the thinly veiled insult. "And you believe you could succeed where no one has before?"

Tom smiled smugly. "You always said I was an exceptionally bright student, Professor."

"And I've yet to amend my observation." Dumbledore peered at him. "What is it that drives you to gain immortality, should you prevail and achieve this lofty goal?"

Tom rose from his seat and sauntered towards the wall, peering at the spines of old books lining Dumbledore's shelves. "Ever astute," he remarked. "Have you ever observed a pride of lions, Professor? I used to read about them in the donated picture books when I was at the orphanage all those years ago; I had always dreamed about what it would be like to visit a zoo someday. You see, when a lion cub is born into the Pride, male or female, they are born knowing exactly where they fit in. The hierarchy is well-established from birth. A male cub must first show deference to older lionesses, as well as the King of the Pride, before they can be accepted into the ranks. Only when a male cub matures, can he fight for dominance of his birth Pride or he may leave to form his own Pride."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "The natural order of things, I presume," he replied.

"It is." Tom turned from the bookcase to face Dumbledore. "But imagine, if you will, that no such challenge ever took place. The male cub is born within his Pride, but the hierarchy remains intact. The King of the Pride expands his fold, but remains firmly atop the chain."

"Challenges will always arise, Tom. The King must die for the next ruler to ascend. If it holds true for Mother Nature, then it holds true for us all."

Tom smiled crookedly. "Of course, Professor. Just a hypothetical."

The memory ended and Harry was deposited back in the present. Dumbledore stood beside him, his hands clasped together as he regarded Harry carefully.

"Voldemort seeks immortality," Harry slowly tasted the words. "Do you know if he ever succeeded?"

"I know he has never stopped searching, but I don't think he has had success on that front yet. But more importantly than that is the reasoning behind it. Did you hear what he said about the lions, Harry?"

"Yes, but it didn't make sense."

"I was confused at the time as well, but the more I revisited this memory, the more I began to understand the point he was alluding to. Tom Riddle may have an aversion to death, this we both know. But more than power over death, he wants the power to rule, Harry. He seeks to remain 'King of the Pride' forever in a world he has shaped himself, with no challenges to his rule and an ever-expanding population."

"A world where blood purity rules all," Harry whispered to himself.

Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Yes, if he had his way. But the important key, the very reason you are so integral to this, is he lacks the power assert his authority." In a flurry of robes, Dumbledore began to pace. "He can draw followers and those loyal to his cause, but with you still alive, he is still a 'male cub' seeking to challenge the King. With you out of the way, he can take over as leader of the 'Pride', or the Wizarding world as it were." Pausing as if just coming to a thought, Dumbledore turned and moved towards his desk, searching for something.

"But I'm just  _one_  wizard," Harry huffed his frustrations to Dumbledore's back. "I don't understand how I am threat to ruling a 'Pride' or our world or anything!" He squeezed his hands into fists. He never asked for his parents to be murdered, to live with incorrigible apes for eleven years, to be shunned when all he ever wanted was acceptance and love. The Rune of Power warmed his fist as he swallowed down the ire marking through his blood. He rolled his shoulders in irritation.

"Harry, do you realize that if you are successful and vanquish Tom for good, how many will seek to elevate you?" Dumbledore placed his hands on his desk and leaned over, piercing Harry with a stare over his half-moon spectacles. "The Ministry will be at your feet, supporters will rally to any cause you champion, all you would have to do is speak the words and they will listen. The Wizarding world would be in the palm of your hand before you were even of age. To rule just by sheer birth; it is a power you cannot build, that is not easily given nor taken away.  _That_  is the power Voldemort seeks!"

Harry could only remain silent as he watched Dumbledore steady his breathing. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew what Dumbledore was saying to be true. He had never thought of it, though. Very calmly, he replied, "But it is not something I asked for, Professor."

Dumbledore sat down in his chair warily, his hands falling lightly into his lap. "No, it is not. But it is something you hold nonetheless. Tom Riddle knows this and as long as you are alive, you are a threat to very thing he strives for."

Distantly, the bell chimed across the school signaling the end of Harry's free period. Harry grabbed his satchel off the ground, heavy thoughts plaguing his mind. He vaguely remembered bidding farewell to his Headmaster before making his way to Transfiguration.

Hermione smiled warmly at him in greeting, but her face fell when she noticed the dark mood Harry brought in with him. Even Draco, two desks in front of them, turned to peer at Harry, while reaching down for his text. Draco sent a questioning gaze to Hermione, who shrugged her shoulders in response.

Not wanting to seem too suspicious in class, Draco turned around. Before Hermione could ask the question he knew was coming, Harry replied through their link,  _Not now_.

Harry felt her hurt as she turned in her seat and readied her quill for the day's notes, but he could barely make sense of what he had just learned himself. How could he explain it to the both of them? Realizing he would probably need her notes after class, since he was in no state to actually pay attention to Professor McGonagall's lecture, Harry gave Hermione's hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.

His mood brightened the moment she softly squeezed his hand in return.

* * *

"Again," came the sharp order from Draco. "Strengthen your walls, Granger!" He gave Hermione two seconds' reprieve before he raised his wand and cast  _Legilimens_. Once inside the recesses of Hermione's mind, Draco shifted through childhood memories, including one in second year when his younger self had called her a 'Mudblood.' Before he could expand the memory, a stone wall immediately slid into view.

Quickly adjusting, Draco jumped through the static of her mind to the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, forcing her to relieve Antonin Dolohov's curse over and over. The shrill scream Hermione gave at the point of impact chilled his insides, but Draco pursued nevertheless.

After all, Draco was doing this for her benefit. All three of them were exhausted from a lack of sleep these past few nights. The nightmares began the first night after classes resumed. At first, Hermione had apologized and blamed it on the combined stresses of school work and uncovering who had betrayed them. The third night, Draco had awakened panting and soaked in a cold sweat. He had sought the brunette out after that. Even Potter sported dark circles under his eyes. Draco sent her a look that morning that clearly said 'enough' and now, after supper, all six found themselves within the Room of Requirement to hone their newfound abilities.

While Harry worked with the White Tie, Draco dragged Hermione aside with the intention of teaching her the skill of Occulumency. Seeing how Harry wasn't a good enough Occulumens to do so, and Draco wasn't about to let Blaise look into her mind, Draco gave her the basics before testing her capability.

Draco watched in horror as Dolohov's curse threw her back, but he reminded himself that she would ultimately survive. Draco forced the memory to rewind and play again. It took longer than it should have, but Hermione managed to block his access to the painful memory after the third replay. Apparently, she did not like to be reminded of moments of weakness.

Going for the jugular, Draco came to the most recent memory, the one he knew ate at her consciousness; the one all three of them had been experiencing over and over again in her dreams. He stood beside her and watched the struggling Death Eaters whimper in pain on the bedroom floor, covered in deadly acid. They were back at Grimmauld on the night of the attack. Memory Hermione stood hesitant and Draco watched as she warred with indecision on whether or not to use the Killing Curse.

He walked around memory Hermione, who had tears of her cheeks as she cast the curse three times in quick succession. As she fell to the ground in disbelief and sickness, he sneered down at her crying form.

"I would expect melodramatics from Potter, but not from you."

With a forceful pull, more powerful than he had experienced before, Draco was hurled from her mind. Hermione had pushed him out completely as he was thrown onto to the floor. When his natural eyesight righted, he saw the silent tears that had graced her memory self were now on display.

Hermione stood above him, her hair flying with her anger, her wand gripped tight into one hand. "You had  _no right_!"

Draco stood with her. His school shirt was rolled up to his elbows, and his trousers untidy. "Did you think I would make it easy for you?" He had to help her develop this skill, and if it took a measure of tough love to do so, then he would do it.

"How dare you! Just because I am not at ease with killing others does not give you the right to exploit it so openly!"

"This is war, Granger," he drawled, bored. "I'm sorry to disrupt your fantasies, but there will be more killing to come. Or did you think that this would be your only experience with the Unforgivable?"

Hermione spoke through her fury. "I'm not naïve, Draco! But you can't expect me to just get over this in a week. I'm not built like that."

"Did you know that Aurors train their mind so that when they cast the Unforgivables, it no longer cleaves the soul?" Draco threw his chin towards Harry, who had paused his conversation with Blaise, Daphne, and Luna to watch the scene unfold. "Potter may be too shy to inform you, so I'll do it on his behalf. We both would like to sleep at night. Peacefully," he stressed.

"Does it embarrass you that I have nightmares about it?! That I can't tuck it away like you can." Fresh tears fell and she hastily wiped them away. Draco knew all about her fear of showing weakness in front of others, so he tried to bolster her confidence the only way he knew how.

"Use that brain of yours, Granger and stop me." Draco wordlessly cast the spell once more, knowing her defenses were weak, but her anger was just as severe.

Plunging back into her mind, Draco returned once more to the night of the attack on Grimmauld. He bypassed the other memories he pulled on before. Draco heard her shout in her mind, "No more!"

The shock waves of the yell made his head ache. Her anger was stronger than he realized. Before he could open the memory, she repelled him forcefully, her walls effectively sealing the night from his view.

Seeing through his own eyes, Draco found her wand pointed at him in warning. "I said,  _no more_ ," she hissed, her eyes glowing. The golden ring around her pupil pulsed with magic as the golden specks whirred about her irises. She took several moments to right her breathing. Lowering her wand, she coughed to cover a sob lodged in her throat. She announced as the room turned its attention to her, "Excuse me, I need to be alone for a moment."

The ever-sentient room answered her request and in the far corner, a door drew itself onto the wall. Speaking no further, Hermione headed toward the lone door. She slammed the door behind her and the echo sounded through the room.

"Way to go, Draco," Blaise said from somewhere behind him.

"What were you thinking?" Harry asked, walking up to the blond. "Were you purposefully trying to get hexed?"

"She needs to learn how to control her emotions. You can't tell me you haven't been waking up in a cold sweat after hearing her scream herself awake the past few nights."

Luna and Daphne looked concerned as they joined the group. "I had no idea," Daphne mused, her eyebrows drawn down in concern. "She seemed okay in classes this week."

Harry rubbed his forehead. "She's been skirting the issue whenever I try to talk with her. I think she's trying to keep it inside."

Everyone knew that Hermione had killed the night of the attack, and was the only one to do so, but their main concern at the moment had been securing their safety. After their return to Hogwarts, the incident in question paled to the search for the one who had betrayed them. Hermione's attempts to assure her mental stability further pushed the incident from the forefront of their minds. But while it may have fooled Daphne and the others, not much escaped her mates. If she was hurting, they were hurting.

And Draco had just ripped the scab off a partially-healed wound.

Harry looked at Draco expectantly.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek.  _I'll speak with her. Potter, can you continue to work with Daph, Luna, and Blaise?_

Harry raised a brow in skepticism.  _Are you sure you just won't make her cry again?_

Draco frowned at the thought. He certainly did not want to do that, but he said nothing as he made his way toward the lone door. Merlin, he hadn't thought of it that way. He was just trying to strengthen her skills in Occulumency. Surely, if she could learn the skill, she could control her emotions surrounding the unforgettable night.

Wrapping the back of his knuckles on the door, he waited for Hermione to grant him entrance.  _Granger, it's me._

 _I've had enough of your lessons for one evening, Malfoy. I'll thank you to leave._  Hermione hadn't called him by his surname in months. She must have been truly rankled with him then.

"Come on, Hermione. Open the door," he halted their telepathic communication and begged through the door.

After a few seconds, the door opened to a small room. It was no bigger than a water closet, a lone bench opposite the door. Hermione's eyes were no longer a fiery gold, but puffy and red. Draco's heart plummeted towards his feet. Now he felt well and truly despicable.

"I owe you an apology," he started once he shut the door behind him.

"You think?" Hermione crossed her arms and turned a red nose in the air. "I don't appreciate being made a fool in front of everyone."

Draco scrunched his face in confusion. "Has the lack of sleep addled your brain? What are you talking about?" Most witches and wizards their age could barely master mind magic and for her to successfully thwart him after an hour of practice was impressive. Surely, she saw that?

"What was that out there?!" She pointed to the room behind the door. "I clearly told you to stop and you didn't listen at all."

"I was doing it for your own good." Draco crossed his arms in front of him, perplexed at the intensity of her response. "You threw me off without even trying," he emphasized.

"That's not the point," she fumed. "I told you to stop, and you crossed a line. I wasn't ready to revisit that particular memory and you kept bringing it up in spite of my pleas." Water filled her eyes again. "It's not like I don't see it in my dreams every night."

Draco sighed, her pain bearing down onto him. He reached down to lift her from the bench; his eyes tracking over her features as he gently wiped away the remaining tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Forgive me?" He kissed the corner of her mouth and she pulled away. But only slightly.

"Why did you push the matter?" Hermione turned her face up towards his.

"Did you notice it took you three attempts to push me out the first time, but on this last go, you successfully blocked me without even trying."

"I might have noticed," she smirked. "But it was only because I wanted to hex your toes off."

Draco pretended to clip the tip of her nose with his thumb and forefinger. "It seems your anger strengthens your magic, sweetheart."

She scoffed. "You mean you did it purposefully?"

Draco was quick to amend his statement. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he emphasized. "That's the last thing I would ever want to do. But yes, that's the gist of it." Hermione mulled over his words, but remained quiet. "I may have overdone it, though," he finished.

Hermione lifted her arms around his neck, nodding as she brought her head closer to his. "Only a little." She lifted her lips for a soft kiss of forgiveness. However, she broke away before he could deepen it. "Instead of purposefully trying to rile me, you could have just told me what you were trying to do," she offered.

"Wouldn't be the same," Draco said, recapturing her lips once more. Her hands travelled over his shoulders and into his hair. Her fingertips scraped lightly against his scalp. "Has to be tied to an emotion … mmm … particularly strong." His hands ran down her waist, squeezing her into him.

"Is that so?" she asked, once his lips left hers. He dotted kisses along her cheek, her jawline, and then down her neck. One eyelid closed and she fought the urge to close the other as he suckled the delicate skin of her neck.

"Hmm-mm."

"Well then…"

Draco's hand had made its way underneath her shirt, when the tip of her wand pinched his temple. He had a split second to open his eyes before he heard the spell and suddenly, she waded through his most private thoughts.

The little minx was quick, but Hermione had carefully jumped to his heart's deepest desire, his defenses momentarily lax. She didn't see him surrounded by money or fame, like he would have been a few years ago. He wasn't surrounded by scantily-dressed witches attending to his every whim. Instead, Hermione was taken to an endless field of grass so green, it reflected the sun's ray back onto her face.

She saw herself, Draco's arm about her shoulders. Harry held her left hand. The two boys laughed while she shook her head and rolled her eyes. Harry raised her hand and kissed the back of her hand. The love and light that radiated from the three of them had her blinking back tears of another kind. Her dream-self happily jumped on Draco's back and the two of them chased after a laughing Harry. It wasn't a memory because the scene hadn't occurred yet, but a vision of hopes and dreams to come.

Draco did not push her out like she did. Only when she'd seen enough did she draw herself from his mind. Quickly, she threw herself into his embrace as he tried to track the emotions across her face. Her eyes widened and her lips parted.

"Tied to a particularly strong emotion?" she asked quietly, her eyes searching his for the truth.

Heat crept up his features. How strong of Occulumens was he if he couldn't stop her from seeing the truth? But what bothered him most, was the fact that he did not want to hide the truth. He knew she could feel every inch of the underlying emotion from the vision. "How about we join the others, before they think the worst?" he asked instead, the moment awkward and strange.

Even though he dodged her question, she allowed him to pull her from the small room. "The worst being?"

"That I'm a reprehensible sod, who's broken the poor princess' heart. Daphne or Lovegood will hex me for being a heartless cur, no doubt calling me names, while Potter will break my nose. Blaise will just sit back and laugh, of course," he answered with a wink.

"Then I would advise you not to break our hearts, Draco," Hermione replied back with a small smile and a wink.

The thought had never crossed his mind.

Harry approached the two, his eyes glancing between the two. "We're alright here?"

"Granger's a tough knut, Potter. You can't tell me Snape didn't have you crying like a first year during your Occumulency lessons," Draco smoothly covered for Hermione.

Harry's smirk dropped. "Defensive positions, Malfoy," Harry ordered.

Draco dropped his hip back, as he unsheathed his wand. "You're on, Potter."

As the two engaged in a battle to disarm, Luna and Daphne pulled Hermione to the side. "Are you sure you're alright?" Daphne asked, indicating to Hermione's red eyes.

Hermione nodded, the last of her tears gone. She glanced briefly to the boys half-heartedly dueling in the background. "I am. It's been a rough couple of days and Draco has the sensibility of a bull in china shoppe." Hermione folded her arms about herself. She got along better with boys than girls her own age and quite suddenly, she found herself at a loss of what to say.

Daphne nodded as the awkward moment passed. "I'm glad. I imagine it was quite a shock to do what you did." The two blonde witches shared a look. "In fact, Luna and I would like to thank you, again. If you hadn't stood up as you did, we might have all been hurt or worse."

Hermione gave a small smile. They were thanking her for killing three men. It felt wrong to be smiling about it. "I meant it when I said, you were mine to protect."

"Even though we are the ones who should be protecting you. I feel as though we let you down in some way," Luna said.

"I hate to think that this has affected you so because of our inability to fulfill our vow to you," Daphne put in.

Hermione placed her hand on the other girl's arm, the need to reassure too great. "No, I don't think that at all. It will be awhile before you three learn the dynamics of your bond. I did what I could in the meantime." She lowered her eyes. "Speaking of which, how is everything?" When no moved to answer her question, Hermione chanced a look at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

Luna smiled and carelessly shrugged her shoulders. "It is very awkward to say the least, but I think we are adjusting."

"Adjusting is good," Hermione offered, unsure how to respond.

Daphne laughed as Luna nodded. Daphne continued, "I think Blaise may be adjusting the best out of all of us."

All three witches turned to the handsome Italian, who looked over his shoulder at them. He sent them a wink and Hermione blushed at the implication.

"Like I said, it's an adjustment," Luna replied.

A little under an hour later found Harry, Hermione, and Draco alone in the Room of Requirement.

"Do you think they'll be ready?" Hermione question the readiness of the holders of the White Tie as the three of them moved towards one of the sofas the room provided. "If the attack on Grimmauld proved anything, it's that we don't have much time to prepare."

"Then they will have no choice, but to be ready," Draco responded dryly. "I'm confident they'll be prepared. If anything Blaise will work with Daphne. As much as it pains me to say it, Loo—  _Luna_ ," he corrected himself, "may have some capability in that spaced out head of hers. Who knew?"

Before they could collaspe in exhaustion, Harry took out his wand. He transfigured the sofa into a large bed, complete with soft duvets and four over-sized pillows. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't think I'll be able to make it back to my room tonight," Harry winked as he climbed into the bed, depositing his shoes, tie and belt at the foot of the bed.

They had missed an opportunity to be alone like this over Christmas and with everything happening so suddenly, there was little time to decompress. Smiling as she did so, Hermione climbed over the sheets, as Draco followed. Shirts were unbuttoned and skirts loosened in the name of comfort.

Harry laid on bed, his arms behind his head. Hermione curled under his shoulder while Draco lounged on the other side, propped up on one elbow. Draco looked down at them both.

"So, Dumbledore wasn't helpful regarding who might have betrayed us?" Draco queried.

"Not particularly," Harry recalled what he had happened earlier. "He seemed just as surprised as we were at the sudden attack."

"Why am I not surprised?" Draco muttered underneath his breath. "Some leader of the Light."

"But at least you were able to discern more about Voldemort's motivations," Hermione argued, somewhat defensive of their Headmaster. "Dumbledore has been able to shed light where we would have been in the dark completely."

Harry removed his glasses, settling in for the night. Tired of the heavy conversation, he changed the subject. "So, what was that back there? What were you two doing in that room?"

Draco smirked slyly. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Draco's been keeping secrets from us," Hermione grinned, her hand caressing Harry's chest.

"Is that so?" Harry gave Draco a questioning look. He waited for the blond to answer, but Draco remained silent. "Cat got your tongue?" Harry jokingly teased.

Draco made a face. Why would a cat have his tongue? Rolling his eyes at the silly phrase, he explained, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from his mates, "I seem to have developed  _feeling_ s…" Draco tasted the word on his tongue as if it were foreign. "… for the two of you." He frowned as a dusty pink bloomed across his handsome features.

Hermione's grin widened as she reached across Harry to interlace her fingers with Draco. She pulled Draco's free hand onto Harry's stomach. "Feelings? For Harry and I?" she ribbed goodnaturedly. "My, my-"

"Shut it, Granger." Draco rubbed his thumb over her hand, even as he admonished her. "I've been immersed with Gryffindors for too long now.  _Feelings_  and the like are your forte, are they not? Are you going to start weeping now?"

Harry gave a cheesy grin. "Would you prefer we brood and sulk by ourselves? How does it go, 'Mione?"

Hermione dropped her eyebrows and put on her best 'sulking' face; except it was more of a pout. "I can't quite get it. Draco, does this look correct to you?" she asked.

Draco laughed at her pathetic attempt of mockery, instead choosing to answer with pillow to the face. It was promptly answered with another 'thwack' to either Hermione or Harry, he couldn't tell. The  _ame de loups_  swatted each other playfully with over-sized pillows.

Several moments of light hearted laughter diminished, granting the trio a small reprieve.

"Are you still sad, Hermione?" Harry asked her quite frankly.

Hermione sat back on her ankles, a pillow in hand. She was startled, but not at the question, but at the genuine concern behind it. "A little," she answered honestly. "But I won't be for long."

Just then, Harry leaned forward to capture her lips with his. "How about now?" he asked.

She shook her head. Harry kissed her once more. He pushed and gently prodded until all she could focus on was the warmth of his lips, and the pulsing heat of his tongue. Hands ... Draco's, she knew, skirted up her legs and back and she sighed into the kiss as the cold air around her dimmed and dwindled. This was nice, she mused, as two sets of lips pressed warm kisses to her neck and face. More than nice.

Soon, the heat built into another need altogether. Harry sharply broke the kiss that left her lips swollen and burning. Quickly spinning her, Harry pushed her to the bed. Hermione swallowed as she landed on her hands and knees, her fingers digging into the duvet. There was rustling behind her and then Harry was behind her. The heat that tingled her lips bloomed within her center as the anticipation grew. This time, there was no one to interrupt. Death Eaters would not find them here.

Harry made quick work of her knickers and pushed up her skirt, his fingers caressing her bum. A wave of nervousness rushed over her as the tip of Harry's cock pressed into her entrance and he teasingly played with the moisture found there. She pushed against him, dissatisfied with his maddeningly desire to take his time, when before, he could not wait to take her. Hermione's teeth clenched as she pushed all her frustrations into one word, "H—Har _ry_!"

Instead of sinking into her, Harry's fingertips teased the overheated skin beneath her shirt. Deftly searching beneath her bra cups, he lightly rolled her nipples between his fingers. Hermione sucked in a breath at the opposing sensations and pushed against his pelvis for more, but again, he denied her.

Harry tsk-ed, "Sorry, 'Mione. Draco, first."

Hermione lifted her head from between her arms and found Draco sinking to his knees to position himself in front of her. His full-on arousal bounced before her nose and her eyes crossed as she stared down the length of it. She raised questioning eyes to Draco above her.

"Open that pretty mouth, Granger," Draco ordered as he rubbed the smooth skin of his tip along her bottom lip. Normally, she would refuse such an order on basis alone, but she could not deny the rush of warmth that ran down her legs at the grate of his voice.

After slowly dropping her bottom lip, Draco used the opening to push past her lips. At the same time, Harry sank into her from behind. The stretching of her sensitive walls caused her to groan around Draco's cock stuffing into her mouth. The resulting vibrations caused Draco to swear sharply above her.

Harry stilled within her body, waiting for her to set the pace. Not wanting either of them to stop, Hermione slid her mouth hesitantly along Draco's length as Harry retreated and slid into her tight opening. Harry's actions were two-fold: the harder he thrust into her, the more urgently she would suck Draco off.

Soon, all three worked themselves into a pattern. Hermione was held hostage between two wizards who helped themselves to their pleasure, courtesy of her willing body. Both seemed to hear her unspoken frustration as simultaneously cold fingertips grazed over her sensitive nub and her nipples at the same time. Soon, the pleasure-pain of her orgasm started to build. She could not vocalize how close she was as Draco's cock buried its way down her throat. She almost choked on a moan.

Draco rubbed the underside of her throat. The soothing ministrations caused her throat muscles relax enough for him to slide deeper. She exhaled hard through her nose as Harry ran against a sensitive spot, sending her body cascading into heaven. Draco came undone a few seconds behind her. She swallowed as much as she could before he pulled out of her mouth; a lingering trail of seed dribbled down her chin. She could hear Harry breathing harshly behind her and dully realized, she'd missed his own release, she was so caught up in her own.

Harry pulled her skirt down and pulled her back into the warmth of him. Hermione gladly let him as her arms could no longer support her weight. Her eyes fluttered in a dangerous combination of sleep and contentment and lazily, she offered her opened arms to Draco.

He stood on his knees before them before a smile climbed his boyish face. He crawled on his knees and entered their cocoon of warmth. The three of them lay, arms wrapped about each other, in an uncoordinated pattern. It was awkward at first and they shifted more than they could count the first few minutes, but they settled into a comfortable tangle of body and limbs, absolutely content for the moment.

Their combined breaths stabilized as they lay on the bed. The torches along the walls dimmed and slowly went out.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, seconds from slumber.

"Hmm?"

"You know you're not the only one with feelings, right?" Harry confirmed from the other side of her.

Draco closed his eyes with a smile, one hand holding onto Harry, the other tightening around Hermione's waist.

They fell asleep amid a tangled mound of limbs, hair thoroughly tussled, with the duvet pulled up to their chest. They slept comfortably for the remainder of the night. There were no nightmares.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Remus Lupin stood on the dilapidated front porch of his mother's house. Hope Lupin  _neé_  Howell left her family home to him after her passing. The modest home outside of Cardiff, Wales provided the perfect place to escape after the attack on Grimmauld Place.

He was not ashamed that his first thought had been seeing to the safety of his mate rather than staying to defend Grimmauld from Death Eaters. It was paramount that she not be discovered, lest Voldemort ascertain she was with the Order or more importantly, how she came to end up at Grimmauld Place. Once he'd arrived at his mother's abandoned home, Remus connected the fireplace to the Floo Network and made contact with Alastor, Arthur, Kingsley, and the others. Tonks had refused to speak to him, but he learned from Andromeda that she was alive and safe. Remus would have joined the others to track for any remnants of the dark cell that attacked them, but his attentions were needed elsewhere at the moment.

After he gleaned details of what happened following the attack, including Harry's safety, Remus set to restoring his mother's home to its former glory. He knew it was not what the former Lady of Malfoy Manor was accustomed to, but for the time being, the three-bedroom cottage would have to do. Narcissa had not said much upon arrival. She chose to spend the majority of her time in the upstairs bedroom overlooking the ruins of his mother's garden.

Remus knew from his time here as a boy that the gardens backed to a larger wood. The closest neighbors were about a kilometer down the road. All in all, the Howell family home was a perfect place for Narcissa to recover from her first transformation; which according to his calendar, was less than a week away.

He had transfigured some of his mother's clothes into a clean set of robes; they were practical but sufficient. Narcissa's new wardrobe consisted of a few pairs of cotton and linen skirts, three long-sleeved blouses, and a woolen cloak, lined with fur. Remus knew it was a far cry from what awaited back at the Manor, but it would do for now.

As they moved further into the lunar cycle, both started to feel the effects of their sickness. Each day in the runup to the full moon lead to sour stomachs, nausea, and tremors in extremities he couldn't control. Remus knew Narcissa was experiencing the same symptoms as well. He watched one day as she reached for a goblet of water, her hand shaking something fierce. She quickly covered it with her other hand in hopes that he would not notice, but he did.

"Do you intend to ever return me?"

Remus turned his head towards the modest kitchen at the voice. He was currently in the living room, reading the day's  _The Prophet_. A Dark Mark consumed the front page. It was the first time Narcissa had spoken to him directly since they left Grimmauld Place.

Besides leaving her room to eat or to use the facilities, Narcissa rarely ventured further over the past week. He noticed she had lost a bit of weight and had become pale and sickly. Her forehead was covered with a fine layer of sweat. He knew her heartbeat held steady at an accelerated pace and wouldn't return to normal until after the full moon. She held herself against the counter, one arm poised to steady her balance. Dark circles lined her eyes.

Remus carefully set the paper aside. "I would never intentionally hold you against your will. You are free to leave if you wish to do so."

"I have no wand. How am I supposed to leave?" she countered.

Remus pondered her question in earnest. "And where would you go? Back to the Manor, to Greyback…" Narcissa involuntarily shivered at the man who had turned them both. "Or perhaps to your sister?" The hand gripping the countertop flexed as Remus continued, "The full moon will be upon on is a few days. I'm sure they will be most accommodating to your condition." Remus sat back in his chair and once more took up his paper. He waited the requisite moments, allowing her to make the next move.

Silent footsteps approached him and a delicate hand lowered the paper he held open across his lap.  
"You would have me remain here indefinitely then?"

Remus looked up from his folded-over paper to the witch lifting an artic brow at him.

He sighed, once more setting the paper to the side. "Are you not in the least bit curious as to what is happening to you?" He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees. "No doubt you've experienced the tremors, the chills, the weakening sickness that seems to ebb and flow."

She remained quiet but stepped around him, his skirts trailing past his knee.

"I understand that you are frightened, Narcissa. It is perfectly understandable given the circumstances," he tried for reasoning.

"I am not frightened!" Narcissa announced as she sat in a chair opposite of him. "If you would just kindly drop me by Wiltshire, I won't even tell them who brought me; we'd both be rid of the other. You can return to your group and I could return to mine." She daintily folded her hands across her lap.

Remus stood from his seat and walked slowly towards her. Once in front of her, he hesitated to grab her shoulders. Instead, he held his hands limply by his side. "Fenrir would smell me all over you before you reached your front gate. Oh, you  _can_  return to Wiltshire if you wish, but You-Know-Who will know within the hour with whom you've been hiding with. With whom  _Draco's_  been hiding with." He watched her eyes widen with understanding. "By all means, if you wish to expose your son's duplicity to your Lord, I will gladly Apparate you to Wiltshire. When would you care to leave?" His control over his moodiness was slipping, and he chastised himself for not exhibiting more restraint.

Her mouth twisted as pale blue eyes narrowed in malice. "Enough, Mr. Lupin, you have made your point," she clipped, turning to gaze out the window.

Nodding to himself, Remus returned to his seat and re-opened the paper. Silent moments passed once more. He was aware of her presence before, like when she was in the upstairs bedroom, but now that his mate sat across the way, he found it painful to contain himself. The coming moon was making it harder for his animal to remain complacent as well. He shifted in his seat as he cleared his throat.

"What place is this?" she asked. Apparently, the silence was getting to her as well.

"It was my mother's family home," he answered from behind the newspaper, his eyes seeing, but not reading the words on the page. "We are a right outside of Cardiff."

"Wales," she breathed.

Remus lowered the paper again. "Yes." Seeing her nod her head carefully, as if her situation was finally sinking in, he inquired about her health. "How have you been?" He gestured to the wound, still healing, on her neck.

Narcissa idly placed a hand on the wound, her eyes lost in memory. "The wound is sore, but the potions you provided have reduced the pain. I suppose I should thank you for that."

"And what I mentioned earlier?" he gently prodded.

Her eyes averted to her lap, but quickly she affirmed, "I have been experiencing all the symptoms you mentioned. Will it worsen?" she asked bravely,

How he wanted to go over there and hold her! But as it were, he remained fastened to his seat. That she was even speaking to him was a timid step. He didn't want her to shut down, not when the approaching full moon held such changes in store.

"It will as the full moon approaches," he answered, carefully. "Afterwards, the symptoms lessen greatly. That is, of course, until the next cycle begins. Each successive cycle is easier than the one preceding it."

"Afterwards?" Her hands fisted in her skirts. "You mean after I change?" The words tasted foreign on her lips, Remus could tell.

"After  _we_ change," Remus emphasized. For the first time in a while, he wanted to change into his animal form. He did not want her to have to experience it alone.

Her eyes met his across the room. He thought everything he did not have the courage to voice aloud.

_I will be there with you._

_Your life is not forfeit._

_You are still beautiful to me._

In the end, all he could manage was, "Eat as much as you can and rest well. The transformation in a few days will be … jarring at first." Stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets, Remus rose and left her alone to her thoughts.

Narcissa would say very little over the next few days.

He was ever careful to give her space, but the house was only so big. Narcissa would join him at the kitchen table for evening meals, but after they cleared their plates, she would once more retreat to her room for privacy.

On the night of the full moon, the night was cold, and the wind brisk. Wrapped in his worn cloak, Remus found Narcissa waiting at the back entrance to the meager garden, shrouded in the fur cloak he had transfigured. A broken porch door led to the garden and a hidden path; all of which Remus knew well. He led them across a field long-neglected from harsh winters and time. Just beyond, a line of trees marked the entrance to the forest Remus knew to be expansive and deep. It wasn't a magical forest, but it was still home to a myriad of creatures.

He did not take her hand as they walked in silence after sunset. He could hear her sighing behind him, but she followed nonetheless, as he knew she would. They walked quietly for ten minutes until they were deep in the forest.

In the dead of winter, the bare branches provided little shelter.

Remus lowered his hood and paused. The moon would be out shortly. "I won't lie, Narcissa," he admitted, as small clouds of vapor escaped from his mouth. "It will be painful, but try to focus on something. It will make the shift pass quickly." Turning, Remus saw her regard him with unshed tears. "Do not despair; it will be over before you know it." He tried to smile.

"Our clothes?" she asked.

He shrugged. He was well-acquainted with the toll this condition took on one's wardrobe. "We can always mend them when we shift back. I hope you are adept at mending clothes," he tried for humor, but she found none in their situation. Not that he blamed her.

Softly, the warm light of the full moon covered the bare branches. It was a pain he was used to, but he swallowed the scream anyway. The pain was always sharp, a jagged rearranging of bones and tissue reforming itself. His body tried to fight it, but the pull was too great. The only difference this time was the accompaniment of a woman's scream beside his. His heart broke at the sound. It was long and hollow and full of pain. Quicker than he could imagine, it morphed into a high whine as the pain continued through the shift.

Remus saw shaggy grew paws where his feet should have been and knew that his transformation was over. It didn't hurt any less as his bones re-settled in his lupine form, but the worst was behind him. He knew his eyes were a yellowish green, but what made them widen, was the sight directly across from him.

A slender wolf tore out of the clothes she no longer needed. Well, Narcissa Malfoy made for a lovely wolf, he thought to himself. Her fur was a lovely shade of gold, a tad darker than her natural hair color, and she had the fiercest aquamarine eyes. Something deep within his chest constricted to the point pain; her transformation called to his very core. Narcissa tried not to make eye contact with him, but Remus couldn't help himself.

_You look lovely._

Narcissa jumped at the communication in their mind, but quickly, she growled in response. _Don't!_  she warned.  _Do not make this harder than it is._

Knowing she would not take any compliments at the time, Remus wisely decided not to press the matter and moved on. He lifted his nose into the air and inhaled as varying scents of the forest tickled his nostril.

_You need to eat. You must bloody yourself during this first transformation or the repercussions will be severe. Stay here, I will return shortly._

He left her with the tattered remains of their clothes and quietly set out into the night. He knew she would never be able to hunt successfully tonight; the energy expended from her first change left her nearly exhausted from fatigue.

He rarely hunted when he did change, mainly choosing to eat the raw steaks he typically brought with him, but tonight, for a slew of reasons, would be different. It was almost invigorating if he was honest with himself. It wasn't often he experienced the thrill of a hunt.

When he returned, she lay on the ground, her ears laid back. Her head dozed across her front legs. He dragged his kill, a doe, by the leg closer to her. Cautiously, Narcissa hoisted herself up and walked over to the undercarriage of the animal. She hesitated before she began to tear into flesh. It was a bloody affair, one Remus knew she was unfamiliar with, but he offered no advice as instincts took over. Still, he did the only thing he thought to do, as she began to tear into the hide of the deer.

_Good. Very good, Narcissa._

Narcissa lifted a bloody maw from the animal's underside and growled.  _Do not call me that. You do not get to call me that._

_Right. Of course._

After she had eaten enough to curb the sickness, she asked tentatively through their link,  _So … how long?_

Remus walked around the deer and sat on his haunches.  _I will shift back when the day breaks. Unfortunately for you, the first transformation is always the longest; you will remain in your wolf form possibly one to two nights until the full moon begins to wane._

She tucked her legs beneath her as she lay back on the earthen floor. Her head lowered across her legs, her nose turned away from the carcass in disgust.  _But what am I supposed to eat? How can I possibly survive as an animal?_

_Surprisingly, you find instincts you never knew you had begin to take over. It is a calling we cannot deny._

_If you mean I am to hunt like I wild animal, then I would rather starve,_  she remarked sourly.

Remus smiled to himself, anticipating as much.  _I can bring you something to eat when the sun rises. During the day, it would be best if you remained behind the forest line. Sleep as much as you can. There aren't many Muggles this far up any longer, but it is better to be safe._

Hesitantly,  _Will you stay?_

Remus knew it was difficult for her to admit weakness. But he was well acquainted with the overwhelming loneliness that accompanied their condition. It had plagued his life for far too long.

_I will stay._

Narcissa turned her head to regard him once more, her eyelids sinking towards rest.  _Thank you._

After she had drifted off, Remus walked closer to her sleeping form. Laying his head on her neck, he settled into sleep the cold night away. Her warm body automatically set his frayed nerves at ease.

He wanted to rub his face into her neck, mark his scent all over her and so much more, but he would settle for this. Their time would come. Remus Lupin and Narcissa Malfoy sleeping on top of each other in the middle of a frozen forest should have been awkward.

Except it wasn't.

 


	20. Chapter Nineteen

In years prior, Blaise would dread the drag of days that followed the Holiday break. Just about every night in January, he would pray to the Gods for the spring term to fly in like the wind. As the days lengthened and the temperature grew steadily warmer, he would count down the days to final assignments and exams. The allure of the summer break called to the southerner in him, and teased of vacations in Italy and warmer waters. He could taste the sweetest wine one could ever imagine waiting back at his family's villa. Cecilia, a Squib who tended the Zabini vineyard with her family, would present him with a celebratory glass to mark the summer solstice and thus, would begin a summer in utter bliss, far away from tomes, Scottish winters, and cold dungeons.

One particular summer after their third year, Blaise and Draco, on holiday from the British Isles, had snuck into his grandmother's cellar and sampled the newest stock that was to be sold to a local wizarding village. For two weeks straight, the fourteen year-olds had gotten so plastered from their hidden stash, it was a miracle they hadn't killed themselves. Aside from the tongue lashing from his Nana and Mrs. Malfoy the morning they showed up to brunch hungover, it was one of the best moments from his childhood. The taste of fermented grapes still lingered on the recesses of his tongue if he thought on it long enough.

But that memory was rapidly becoming a thing of the past; a life belonging to a boy whose only care was how fast he could race his broom through the vineyard against a bratty Draco Malfoy. The wanker always had an excuse for why he came in second when Blaise had won the lap.

Blaise rolled his eyes at the thought and once more tried to settle in for the evening, dreams of a vineyard and the summer sun easing his frayed nerves into unconsciousness. But no such escape would come this evening. At first, Blaise thought the rapping at their dormitory door was a part of his dream. It wasn't until the third set of successive knocks that he turned in his bed to face the sound, his eyes squinting at the profile of Severus Snape in their doorway.

Draco quickly took what their Head of House held in an outstretched hand. Snape regarded the young wizard briefly before turning and retreating in a flourish of robes. Draco held the missive tight in one fist, a consternated look drawn about his features.

Why was Draco awake so late anyway? Blaise thought the blond was on his way to bed after such a brutal end to the week. The start of February saw everyone began to feel the pinch of upcoming exams, and with the combined onslaught of assignments from Slughorn, a project for McGonagall, and an end of term assignment from Flitwick, Blaise knew that everyone would start heading to the library to get a jump on the procrastination game. Blaise had stayed awake until Theo and Gregory passed out from a late night of binge drinking before heading to bed himself. Everyone had their ways of coping with the stress at the end of such a grueling week.

Which was why Blaise looked forward to the start of the weekend; he had planned to spend time with his two favorite ladies. Blaise, Luna, and Daphne's schedules hadn't allowed for the three of them to get together as often as he'd liked and apart from time spent in the classroom or some study sessions in the library, he was beginning to yearn for his witches. So, this Saturday, they'd planned to spend the day together; just the three of them, no schoolwork or other obligations. Luna had been initially reluctant claiming something might come up; but with Daphne's encouragement, his girls planned a picnic for them, even though Blaise didn't do 'picnics'. But it was what the girls wanted, so he would do it. But in order to do so, he would need to get some rest first!

After watching Draco push the door close with a scowl, Blaise had an inkling his night wasn't going to be as restful as he'd initially thought. That thought was further cemented by the sight of Draco turning quickly to retrace his steps towards his wardrobe. He began to stuff small vials into his pocket with a fervor that immediately had Blaise on edge. Throwing back the duvet, Blaise moved to get dressed and threw on a jumper.

"Going somewhere?" Blaise whispered, careful not to wake the others. From the bottles littered about their room, he was confident their dorm mates wouldn't be rousing anytime before noon the next day.

Draco's head popped up from the dresser he was currently searching. After pocketing another vial, he closed it shut. "I won't be long. Go back to bed."

Blaise watched his friend mutter to himself as he put on his shoes. Draco ran an agitated hand through his hair and Blaise wondered if the blond had been to sleep at all this evening. "Not if you're going somewhere." Blaise threw his head toward the small envelope sticking out of Draco's pocket. "And unless I'm mistaken, it seems that you are."

An annoyed look crossed Draco's face, but he replied in the affirmative. "A summons and a portkey. I'm to have an audience with the Dark Lord tonight."

Blaise's features drew down in worry. "Does Granger know about this?" Draco tapped a finger against his temple, indication his answer. "I can't imagine she's too happy with the prospect," Blaise surmised.

Draco grimaced. "No choice. She's ready to barge into the dungeons at this moment to try and stop me."

"Good luck with that. I would like to see her try to get through the portrait, much less the common room." Blaise grabbed something out of his own out his wardrobe and placed it into the back pocket of the trouser he had hastily dressed into — safety precautions, as it were. "Well, when are we leaving?"

Draco gave him a look. "I hardly expect — "

"I could care less what you'd expect. I'm going. Granger will have my arse, if I didn't." At Draco's stubborn insistence, Blaise crossed his arms and continued, "I'm coming with you, mate. Get used to it."

"Fine, but stay to yourself. I'll do the talking." Draco looked around the room once more, as if he were missing something. Blaise watched him wince as if an oncoming headache was building. He gathered the dissenting voices of Potter and Granger in his head was the culprit.

"It's not like I want to bring attention to myself," Blaise remarked to himself.

"I'm serious, Blaise. No matter what happens, keep to yourself." Blaise had a sinking feeling Draco knew what was coming, but did not let on. Blaise did not miss the undercurrent of concern laced beneath his friend's words. "This has the potential to go to shit real quick if one of us steps out of line."

Blaise pulled on his cloak as Draco did the same. "And Daphne? Should we get her?" He telepathically reached out to his mate, but she was sleeping. Luna was as well.

Blond strands fell into his eyes as Draco shook his head. "No time." Opening the envelope, both looked at the small pocket watch inside. "Ready?" Once Blaise nodded, Draco pressed, "Remember, keep to yourself."

"If I can maneuver my way through Slytherin House, I believe I can handle the Dark Court," Blaise joked darkly as he placed his arm on Draco's shoulder.

"Let's hope so," Draco muttered as he picked up the pocket watch. The pull was instantaneous; gone was their dorm room at Hogwarts and before the pull could deepen behind his navel, they were released into an empty hallway that looked vaguely familiar. But the presence of dark magic made it hard to reconcile Blaise's memories of Malfoy Manor with where they stood now.

" _Lumos_ ," Blaise said quietly. The sleeping portraits of deceased Malfoys above them, illuminated by his wand light, confirmed that this cold hall was indeed his mate's childhood home. "The portkey brought us past the wards?" Blaise wondered to his partner beside him.

"Seems so. With my father incarcerated and my mother no longer here, the Dark Lord has adjusted the wards to his will." Their combined wandlight moved down the empty corridor. Blaise thought it odd. Surely for the epicenter of the Dark, there would be more activity, despite the lateness of the hour.

They walked to the closest door in the hall. It was the only door illuminated from within and thus, was their entry point. "Not a word from here on out, Blaise."

Blaise nodded tightly. "Unless I have to."

Draco dipped his head in agreement and the two shared a heavy look before Draco pushed on the door and led them into the dining hall. Half-eaten plates of food and turned over goblets littered the expansive table that adorned the once-regal room. Abused house-elves wiped at the mess left behind while others swept the floor, their heads cowered in fear should one of the remaining Death Eaters in the Room decide to take up a game of tag-the-elf.

Only two Death Eaters ate at the table now and Blaise noted about six others lining the windows opposite the long table. Three stood to Blaise's right and immediately, he engaged them in eye contact. It would do no good to show fear among these men; he'd heard the stories of how they preyed on those they considered weak. Blaise hung close to the door as Draco made his way further into the room. Several heads rose from their conversation as Draco walked into his former dining room, head held arrogantly in the air as if he had decided to show tonight just for the fun of it.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, good of you to join us this evening." There, at the end of the long cherry oak table, sat Voldemort himself, his monstrosity-sized familiar curled by his feet. Red eyes slid in Blaise' direction and Blaise dropped his gaze to the floor as the serpent-like voice hissed, "And you've brought a friend." While Blaise was somewhat skilled in Occulumency, he didn't dare test his abilities against the Dark Lord now. He was only here to observe and report, and to save Draco's arse if need be. How exactly, seeing how the odds were numbered in the opposition's favor, he wasn't sure. Because if Voldemort chose to act, who were two sixth-years to stop him truly? Oddly, he thought of summer orchards and wondered how his life had traveled from there to here.

Draco answered in his stead. "Blaise Zabini has been interested in our dealings for some time now. I brought him with me tonight to begin the initiation process," Draco purposefully announced to the room, even though he stood right in front of Voldemort. "I can vouch for him, my Lord," Draco dipped his head slightly.

After two beats of his heart, Voldemort slid his attention to Draco. Blaise could feel the heavy release of pressure off his person as Draco directed the snake-man's glare onto him. Granger's demand to know what was happening grew heavier against his mind and Blaise grimaced with the effort to remain still and silent. Blaise very quickly sent a telepathic communique to his  _Lupa_  informing what little he did know and could see. Aside from what had just occurred, Blaise and by extension, Granger just had to wait.

Red eyes narrowed as Voldemort sat forward in his chair. "Funny, you should have time to find me new recruits, but none to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. Your task remains uncompleted, Mr. Malfoy. My patience wears thin."

Draco grunted and fell to his knees. The Dark Lord had not even raised a wand or spoken an incantation against Draco, and yet the blond writhed against the unseen assault and struggled to remain upright. Blaise could tell from the concerted effort that Draco held back from screaming out in pain.

 _Breathe_ , Blaise chided himself in effort to remain calm. He concentrated on visions of two boys flying through endless meters of grape vines, the smell of his grandmother's lasagna coating the air, but it was not enough to mask the smell of dark magic. The hall was drenched in an awful smell of ozone as he bade himself to remain patient.  _Don't do anything stupid. Draco's handled this before_ , he reminded himself. Still, the sight was no easier to bear.

On his hands and knees now in front of the snake, Draco was suddenly released from the non-verbal spell Voldemort unleashed upon him. Short, gaping breaths echoed in the hall. They sounded even louder from Blaise' vantage point by the door. The other Death Eaters in the room hovered closer, as if they were clamoring for front row seats to a show. The bastards.

After a harrowing moment, Draco rasped from the floor, his head bowed, "A thousand apologies, my Lord…" The words were difficult to push pass his tongue. "But the cabinet is a fickle thing. I have searched the library for a way to mend it, but the answer alludes me."

"Pathetic excuses." Voldemort lounged back in his chair, a pale finger running over the top of Nagini's head. His other hand rose slightly in the air and made a beckoning motion. "You should know by now my tolerance for excuses."

A destitute man dressed in robes too big for his once-striking frame came to Voldemort's side. Blaise walked the perimeter of the crowd, struggling to see who had come forward. He hissed through his teeth as the sight of Lucius Malfoy emerging from the shadows. The once-proud and arrogant patriarch of the Malfoy line looked ashen and ragged; a haunted look colored his aristocratic features. "Your father could inform you well what we do with those who do not complete their assigned tasks."

Draco raised his head slowly from the ground to confirm his father's presence for his own. Blaise could not make out Draco's reaction from his vantage point, too many Death Eaters stood between them, but he knew it mirrored his own: surprise and shock.

"Lucius, please demonstrate what happens to those who fail me," Voldemort ordered, a smile of anticipation wet his lips.

Blaise gripped his wand and pushed forward as Lucius raised his wand and struck his son with the  _Cruciatus_  curse. The crowd around him began to hoot and cackle with glee at the spectacle. Blaise was torn with indecision to run to his friend, his  _Lupa's_  mate, and pull his wand in defense, but resourcefulness was needed. Patience had to be applied, though it did nothing to slow the beat of his heart.

Voldemort lifted a hand and halted the punishment, as if the length of time wasn't long enough. Draco collapsed to the floor with an agonized groan, his limbs twitching from the aftereffects of the curse. Blaise settled for shifting on his feet, anxious and ready for them all to get the fuck out of there so he could tend to his friend.

Lucius arm wobbled as he sheathed his wand. Apparently, the emotion he felt for cursing his own blood was not stronger than the fear for his Lord beside him; the coward. What was the use of pride and traditions in pure-blooded families, if they could be so easily upended by a madman in a quest for dominance? Fear kept them all groveling. Fear made them do ugly things and Blaise wanted no part of this disease.

Draco pushed to his knees, his pose bordering on defiance and anger if only he could stop his body from shaiking.  _Hold it in, Draco_ , Blaise bade the blond in his mind. There would be time for vengeance later. Lucius Malfoy was no more than a pawn in Voldemort's game. Draco saw that, Blaise saw that. Lucius, whose adam's apple bobbled as he swallowed, recognized and owned it even.

Eye contact between father and son promised conversations to come, but they could deal with that shit later. It time to get out of there before something even worse happened.

Draco coughed deep in his chest to hide the pain coursing through him, but Blaise knew better. The shudders masked by tightly coiled fists at his sides and the bright red flushed across his neck as shallow breaths tore from his throat indicated a man in pain.

"That is all for now," Voldemort dismissed his rabid followers, eager for another show. They slinked out of the room, shooting dirty looks in Blaise' direction as he remained behind to help his friend. Once they had cleared a path, he waited for Draco to stand on one foot, then another, before quickly walking to his friend's side. Both did not wait for the Dark Lord to speak again. Blaise maneuvered them through the doorway and out of the room. He prayed this was the worse tonight had in store for them.

What Blaise did not see once he had assisted Draco past the door was another shadow that moved to stand behind Voldemort.

Lucius, who had not left with the others, started in surprise, but only briefly, before smirking sourly at this most unexpected visitor. He did not move for his wand; if the Dark Lord was not threatened by the visitor, then Lucius would not be. He quickly schooled his face as he took in the most delicious piece of information.

Voldemort gripped the arms of the chair he sat in, anger manifesting in cold waves through the empty hall. "I don't know why you won't let me kill him," he spoke to the room. "That  _traitor_  stands before me and openly deceives me!" Even Nagini had slithered away from her master as his anger grew. Tiny splinters cracked the ornate markings of the wooden chair and what once was a priceless antique was quickly reduced to damaged goods.

Bewilderment colored Lucius' face as his mouth fell uncharacteristically agape. His son was no traitor! "My Lord? Surely Draco is …"

"Silence, Lucius!" Voldemort's voice echoed in the room, amplified by his fury. Lucius shrank back, his argument on his son's behalf quickly died on the tip of his tongue. "That you still stand before me,  _alive_ , is a testament to my mercy, despite your inability to produce loyalty in your wretched line. Leave us! And speak to no one of what you have seen here. I will not hesitate to reverse my decision to let you live should you disobey me again."

Lucius looked once more to the figure that stood behind Voldemort, distrust in his silver-grey eyes, before nodding his head. He took his leave still in disbelief at what he had seen and heard. Or rather,  _whom_ he had seen.

There was a weathered sigh and the figure spoke once they were alone. A wave of the wand ensured their conversation would remain private. "The time will come where you can have your vengeance, but it is not now," the voice began as it moved to stand beside Voldemort. "For now, Draco must be allowed to think you and your followers are ignorant to his true allegiances."

"No one suspects him. Your plan is unfolding masterfully." Voldemort snarled, "At my expense. I still fail to see how this delivers me the  _boy_ ," he hissed.

"If we play our cards right, we will have one opportunity for success. It is not something we can afford to miss. Are you sure you can trust Lucius to remain quiet?"

Voldemort regarded the figure slowly. "You are confident in your plans. I am confident in mine. Lucius is no more a threat than a mere babe is to a lion."

There was a moment as the two studied each other, but the other broke out in a smile. "We all have our parts to play. Continue to play yours and I will play mine." Until it proved advantageous otherwise, was left unsaid.

"I hope you have not forgotten your vow to me," the Dark Lord spoke to the figure's back as they turned to make their exit. "It would be unfortunate to meet the same end that will befall young Mr. Malfoy. I gave him a chance to prove fealty to me and he has aligned himself with the wrong side." The threat hung lightly in the air. A shaky partnership had brought them together. A common goal united them, but the slightest trickling of magic erupted at the allusion of questioned loyalty.

The air grew heavy with unused magic before it was slowly reeled back in. "I wouldn't think of it." And with a thunderous crack, they were gone.

* * *

Draco's weight sagged against his side as Blaise threw open the door to his friend's childhood room. Late night summer visits would often bring Blaise to this very room where together, both he and Draco would spend the night escaping their parents. Blaise would retreat from his mother's newest fiancé while Draco would patiently let him work out his frustrations. Back then, Draco's childhood room held warmth and invitation, despite its high ceilings and extravagant trimmings in various shade of emerald and white. But now, a presence so sinister blanketed the house and try as he might, Blaise could hardly reconcile the warmth of the house he knew before with the coldness of the walls that surrounded them now. He doubted if the feeling would ever return.

The two wizards struggled to the bed and with gentle easing, Blaise helped his friend on top of the covers. Quickly pulling the vial from his back pocket, Blaise unstoppered it and emptied the contents into Draco's mouth. Draco greedily drunk down the fluid despite the acrid smell.

Draco closed his eyes, and with a harsh swallow settled into the bed waiting for the potion to take effect.

Blaise spoke to the blond as his breathing stabilized. "We can't stay here, mate. One, you're going to need more than pain relief potions to heal you properly." He jingled the remaining vials in his hand. "And between us both, we only have a half a day's worth of potion." Blaise looked at Draco carefully. "We need to move, and soon."

Draco coughed and quickly wiped a hand across his mouth. Blaise did not miss the spatter of deep maroon across his pale skin. It stood out in sharp contrast. "No doubt … my father will want to speak to me," Draco rasped as he took in a shuttered breath as he rested against the mountainous pillows.

"What could you possibly have to say to him?!" Blaise grew incensed. He knew Lucius was not the proud Malfoy patriarch he had been in years past; harsh, long months in Azkaban would make any person forget their self, but to do what he had done to Draco? His only son! Blaise tried to curtail the ire rising within. "Please do not tell me you are entertaining the idea of speaking to him?"

The pain relief potion was quick as Draco's lips moved, but Blaise could barely make out what Draco said.

"What?"

"My mother," Draco rasped, his eyelids drooping. The potion was sending his body into a state of unconsciousness. "He will want to know about my mother…" With a final sigh, Draco slipped into a fitful rest, his limbs still quaking at random intervals.

Racked with indecision, Blaise swore. He wanted nothing more than to get Draco out of this place, but Draco was right. It would be hours before Draco was well enough to move without slowing them down and of course, the senior Malfoy would want a word with his son, since he was free from Azkaban and all.

 _Blaise! What's going on?_  Hermione Granger shouted in his mind. It was indescribable; Blaise was having a conversation, as clear as day in his mind between Wiltshire and the Scotland Highlands. But now was not the time to bask in their bond's heightened abilities as he could feel Granger's agitation across the distance. It melded and became one with his own.  _One moment I could feel Draco, the next, he's not there? Has something happened?_

_Draco's recovering from the torture curse. Voldemort wasn't exactly pleased with him tonight. Nothing too bad, but he won't be able to move for a few hours. I had to give a strong pain relief potion and it put him under._

_This is exactly what I feared would happend. How bad is it?_ Granger pleaded for the truth.

 _The fact that he could sustain his mental barriers while enduring the punishment leaves me to believe that it probably wasn't that bad._  Or Draco was just a really good Occulumens.  _But there's more. Voldemort had his father use the Cruciatus on him in some sort of sick retribution scheme._

 _Lucius Malfoy did what?!_  Blaise winced at the level of Granger's wrath resounding in his head. And by the grimace twisting Malfoy's features even in his sleep, it seemed that Granger's anger had bled over to Draco.  _When did he escape Azkaban? There hasn't been a mention of it in the Prophet._

 _Don't know. He couldn't have been out for long. But tone it down; you'll wake Draco if you get too upset._ Blaise tried to calm his  _Lupa_  with dark humor, despite the worry they both felt _. He needs his rest._  Blaise knew his point would drive home and he could feel Granger begin to slow her anger.

_Blaise, you need to get out of there. It's three o'clock Saturday morning. Maybe Professor Snape can cover for you both being gone the night, but if you aren't back by tomorrow night, others will start asking questions._

_I'm thinking of a plan this very moment. It seems Voldemort is through with Draco for the evening. I'll see if we can Floo to Hogsmeade after he's recovered enough._

_Blaise_ , Granger implored before she terminated the link, the desperation steeped within.  _Keep him away from Fenrir. Bring him back to me._

Blaise looked toward the prone young man lying on the bedspread.  _I will. I'll let you know when we arrive in Hogsmeade._ And with that solemn promise, the link was terminated.

"Looks like someone's already missing you back home, mate," Blaise quipped, his joke falling flat as the breath within Draco's chest rattled. His mouth dropping into a frown, Blaise settled in a wingback chair with nothing left to do but wait out the remainder of the night, or early morning as it were.

But the fates would not grant him a reprieve as a steady knock sounded at the chamber door. The knock sounded again before Blaise could reach the door. Unsheathing his wand and preparing for anything, he schooled his face and cracked the door.

Dizzying emotions of disgust swam behind Blaise's eyes as he felt a flare of protectiveness. Standing eye-to-eye with Lucius Malfoy, Blaise debated letting the man into the room, despite the fact this was still technically his house. While Blaise knew that he couldn't physically stop the man from entering, he would hex the bastard if he tried to curse Draco again.

"Stand aside, Blaise. I have come to check on the welfare of my son."

Blaise did not move from the door way. "Don't you think you've done enough, Mr. Malfoy? He's resting. He won't be able to speak with you until the potion wears off."

Lucius' shoulders lowered a fraction and his voice dropped likewise. "If what I've heard is indeed true, then it is imperative that you let me in. It would do you both no good for eavesdroppers to overhear what I am about to say."

That was enough to give Blaise pause and grant him access. Lucius strode through the doorway into his son's room, his normally stoic features brushed with worry and something else Blaise could not place. The elder Malfoy silenced the room as he approached the foot of the bed.

"He may have some internal injury, but it shouldn't be nothing a decent Healer can't fix," Blaise answered the unspoken question he knew Lucius would be uncomfortable asking. Coming to stand beside his friend's father, he questioned, "Now what don't you want anyone to overhear?"

Silver-grey eyes appraised the younger man. "The Malfoys have always prided themselves in the tradition of the old ways for generations. Draco knows the rich history his lineage hails from — "

"Yes, yes, blood superiority and all that." Normally, Blaise wouldn't have interrupted his elder; he was raised to be respectful, but Lucius' actions tonight lowered him a step in his eyes. "I received the same speech from my mother and father growing up. I'm well aware of the 'old traditions'," he spat bitterly.

Keeping in step, Lucius pointedly replied, "Then you would know the dishonor this family would carry, any family of reputable standing would carry, if it were labeled a blood traitor."

Blaise's eyes narrowed as he feigned insult. "Who's labeling whom a blood traitor?"

"Who is indeed?" Lucius' eyes held a challenge within them. Seeing Blaise would not back down, he continued, "I have not come to fight with you Blaise, but if the Dark Lord believes my son to be a blood traitor, then surely something has pointed him in that direction. Do you have any idea where a preposterous notion may have come from?"

Blaise shook his head. "I've not an idea."

After silent moments, Lucius nodded, a decision made behind his eyes. Briefly, a glimpse of the proud wizard Blaise remembered growing up flashed behind his silvery orbs, but it was fleeting and like every other emotion tied to this house, only a memory. "Very well, then I suggest that you and Draco visit the third floor study in my private quarters as soon as possible." Lucius did not have to stress the words for Blaise to glean the underlying message he was trying to convey. "You remember the location? Good." Taking a deep breath, Lucius looked once more at his son before turning for the door.

"Blaise," Lucius called as he neared the door. "Please see to it that my son does not return back to this house. You will find that even the slightest mention of the words 'blood traitor' are more often than not met with a sticky end."

His lips pressed into a firm line, Blaise affirmed he had received the message loud and clear: their cover was blown, it was time to go.

"Mr. Malfoy." Blaise took a deep breath to steady his nerves. If this was to be the last time he would see the Malfoy patriarch, and he was pretty sure it would be, then he would step in where his friend could not. Lucius had given them a head's up; it was the very least he could do in return. But try as he might, Blaise struggled to say the words. "Draco wanted to tell you about Narcissa." He watched as the elder Malfoy stiffened at the mention of his wife's name.

"Yes, I am aware what has happened to her," Lucius responded matter-of-factly, too causal for Blaise's tastes. If someone were about to impart news on his spouse's welfare after such a vicious attack, then he would be chomping at the bit for the slightest piece of information. Lucius Malfoy calmly waited by the door, an eyebrow perched as if Blaise were encroaching on his precious time.

"Then you know she was attacked by Fenrir," he started slowly. "Draco has hid her in a safe house, where, I do not know. But she  _is_  alive." Blaise waited for a spark of hope to ignite, for a sign that Lucius recognized his beloved was waiting for him somewhere. That a possibility for reconciliation still existed.

As the silence drew on, Blaise saw the faded memory of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy celebrating the summer solstice at his grandmother's vineyard in Italy grow darker by the second.

"Hmm," Lucius sniffed. "Give her my regards." The door shut with finality. Such a memory was never to happen again in his lifetime.

Deciding to mourn his childhood later, Blaise decided not to waste any more time. He pulled a half-conscious Draco from the bed and began the slow journey to the third floor study. As soon as he opened the door to the darkened corridor, he cast a Disillusionment charm over them both. Even though the time piece in Draco's room informed him it was four o'clock in the morning, he did not want to assumed that all who occupied Malfoy Manor were asleep.

The trek to the third floor was an uneventful one. Most of the Death Eaters who kept permanent residence at Malfoy Manor remained in the west wing of the house and if they were staying in the east wing, they did not know the secret passage to Lucius' third floor study. Blaise knew courtesy of the half-conscious man he carried next to him. He didn't want risk levitating Draco as it would be harder to maintain cover as they moved through the hallway and behind the secret panel that emptied into Lucius' study.

While Lucius usually used the larger study on the main floor, the one that held the extensive Malfoy tree upon its wall, very few knew about the smaller study adjacent to the master wing in the house. As the panel slid into the wall and allowed them access, Blaise walked into a smaller version of the study on the main floor. A similar desk and two chairs outfitted the room and to the right, sat an open fireplace, connected to the Floo Network.

The private quarters would ensure they could leave Malfoy Manor without anyone trailing after them. Draco groaned, his steps unsure as Blaise entered the fireplace and called out his destination.

Thankfully, the two wizards were sucked into green flames and deposited onto the dirty floor of the Hog's Head Inn. "Come on, mate. Almost there," Blaise assured his friend. Pulling his arm under Draco's shoulders, Blaise lifted the him off the ground and out the establishment. The Inn only had two patrons for the night and one was thoroughly plastered. He doubted the old Alberforth would say much about the Slytherins heading out into the night.

Dawn was a little over an hour away as the two made their way down High Street. Blaise did not have to reach out to Granger upon their arrival to Hogsmeade; it seemed as though their  _Lupa_  already knew of their arrival before Blaise could even contact her.

 _Meet us inside the Shrieking Shack,_  Granger ordered.  _Will be there in ten minutes._

_Are you sure?_

_Just meet us there,_  she repeated darkly.

It did not take long for Blaise to reach the dilapidated building and by the time he had entered, Potter, Granger, Daphne, and Luna could be seen just emerging from a secret entrance off to the side. There were worry lines around Potter's eyes and his lips turned down into a frown as he rushed to Blaise.

"Here, give him to me," Potter ordered sharply, his arms half yanking the unconscious blond before Blaise could hand him over. Where Draco's weight was becoming a burden on Blaise's shoulders, Potter took the young wizard as if it were no issue at all.  
Potter pushed the blond fringe from Draco's eyes as he laid the young wizard on the frozen floor of the Shrieking Shack. Granger rushed forward to take Draco's free hand into her own. Both looked as if they had stepped into another nightmare all together. Blaise saw the hard lines that tracked over Potter's face equally all over hers, except Granger appeared on the verge of tears.

Daphne and Luna moved to embrace Blaise, grateful of his unscathed return, as all three watched the scene unfold. Potter and Granger crouched protectively over their mate and no one moved to interrupt them.

"You said Lucius did this?" Granger spoke, her voice rough.

Blaise nodded grimly. "Lucius finished Voldemort's work. Without hesitation." He swallowed before continuing. "Lucius visited us afterwards. In Draco's room. He warned me that Voldemort was onto us; how, I don't know, but it was because of him that we were able to escape through his private study," he imparted to a stunned room.

"Voldemort knows? But how?" Granger pressed, her hand squeezing Draco's.

"I don't know. But it was enough for Lucius to warn us to leave and never come back. I would wager that whoever sold us out during Christmas also told Voldemort about Draco's status as a double-agent."

"But that doesn't make any sense. Why would Voldemort let Draco live? Surely, he would want to make an example of any traitors, especially ones he knows about," Daphne mused.

"Beats me,  _cara_. I wasn't planning to stick around and try Voldemort's patience."

Potter shook his head. "Voldemort would never let Draco or you leave alive if he thought one of his followers weren't the least bit loyal. Whoever they were, they've had to have earned Voldemort's trust," he posited.

Blaise shrugged. "I don't exactly have a short list of Voldemort's most trusted followers, but I can guess."

"We're looking for someone close enough to the Order, but who wouldn't readily arouse suspicion," Granger put forth. "Not exactly a short list," she clipped, but Blaise knew the anger wasn't directed at him, but at the events of the evening. He couldn't blame her.

"Hermione," Luna implored softly after the group had a moment to process what had been said. "We should take him to a healer." She indicated towards Draco whose breathing had become strained once more.

But Hermione would not let him go, her grip tightening around Draco's hand. "I promised him. I promised to protect him," she whispered, forlorn.

Potter ran a soothing hand down her ack. "Hermione, it's not your fault this happened. Come on, let's bring Draco to Madam Pomfrey."

"Would you like me to levitate him?" Luna asked politely as she took out her wand. "I'll be careful."

"No," Harry replied, a bit harshly. "I'll carry him myself." No one argued as he led them through the secret passageway beneath the Shrieking Shack and onto Hogwarts grounds. Blaise and Daphne begged the  _ame de loups_  to let them take Draco to Madam Pomfrey as they would be hard pressed to explain why they were carrying a nearly unconscious Draco Malfoy into the Hospital Wing.

So at the front entrance near the Great Hall, Potter reluctantly handed Draco over to Blaise and Daphne. With a soft kiss to the blond's brow and a gentle caress, the teens parted leaving Granger and Potter to watch as they moved away.

* * *

Narcissa loved to tend to her gardens by hand and even now, without a wand, that notion hadn't changed. Her hands moved the frozen earth as she dug at the ground, trying to loosen the soil that hadn't been moved in years. Gardening was dirty work, menial work, but it was fulfilling to bring life and color to where there had been darkness and death before.

She reached behind her to deposit the seedling into the ground before moving the misplaced earth back over it. She promptly began digging another hole beside it. The air was cold, but Spring was coming and by her count, it was late March. Not that she could keep track of time at this place.

Her life had tumbled into a black hole. She had tried rationalizing it, denying it, but in the end, she was only left with time and she was a cruel mistress. Every thirty days brought a vicious reminder what that  _creature_  had stolen from her and for three nights out of a month, she existed; not feeling, not wanting, and barely alive, yet painfully aware of everything. It was the most brutal form of torture, she thought as she hacked at the ground with a rusted hand-held rake. Her vision blurred, but she continued digging as if the answer to her questions lay buried beneath this god-forsaken land.

Tears fell from her eyes onto the disturbed soil and she sat back on her heels, so tired all of the sudden. It wasn't the first time she had crying fits since Remus had brought her here. Although they sometimes caught her off guard as she lay awake at night; she had since traded the tears for a quiet depression, an aching acceptance of sorts.

Until that aching morphed into another need entirely.

She had very little contact with the world. Her son sent letters by way of others when he could and she gathered Draco was hiding something from her. He wouldn't outright say it, and instead focused on her well-being, asked questions about her mental state, but she saw through it all. She saw it in the way Remus would look at her sometimes across the room. They knew something and it had to do with her, but for whatever reason, they wouldn't tell her.

And that was another thing. Sharing a house with Remus Lupin was starting to get underneath her skin. Granted, he had been nothing but helpful since her first change that full moon after the turn of the new year. He even politely excused himself when they shifted back to grant her modesty. But she could not deny that after every shift they endured together, she came back to her human form with lingering … animal urges.

Her nose picked up varying scents on the wind easier than ever, and what horrified and delighted her at the same time was how  _good_  Remus J. Lupin smelled to her. An alluring aroma sifted lightly through the house during the day and exponentially multiplied when in their wolf form at night. Remus had caught her staring more often than not and to her horror, his spicy scent did not diminish when they returned to their separate bedrooms within his mother's home.

She fought the urge to bury her nose in his clothes one day as he walked past her in the kitchen. Again, he caught her staring, a sly smile and arched brow on his face. Twisting her hands in her skirts, she had run for her bedroom, but even there, her traitorous body did not grant her peace.

Stirrings she hadn't felt in years warmed her belly and when she closed her eyes, her husband did not wait for her, but a lanky man with mousy brown hair caressed her. That first touch in her dream set her body on fire as the lonely nights morphed her into a wanton woman; every morning she would rise, her body yearning despite the protests of her rational mind.

As Narcissa sat on the ground, her shoulders slumped as she wiped the sleeve of her arm across her face, positive that dirt had smudged across her damp cheek. She chuckled ruefully. How far she had fallen! The former Lady of the grand Malfoy Manor, ran out of her home by a monster and hiding away in Wales, was dressed in plain linen skirts, covered in dirt, and pined shamelessly for someone who was not her husband.

If this sweet torture was bad during nights in her bed, it was absolutely painful during those nights in her wolf form. This most recent shift she had struggled against Remus' quiet but strong pull. She wanted nothing more than to go to him and offer her body for him to take; she almost did too, if she had not run away as fast as her paws could carry her. But she came back the following day; she always came back.

Narcissa pulled at her hands. Quickly, she tore the large gardening gloves Remus had found for her, more fit for a man than a woman, from her delicate hands. Her hands were no longer the prim, manicured ones she greeted visitors with back at the Manor. Now they were covered in scars she valiantly tried to ignore: painful reminders of what had happened to her over the past three months. She turned her hands over and looked at the scars that ran the length of her hand, and up under her sleeves. She sighed warily.

"Why do you cry?" A voice asked behind her as that spicy scent flooded her nostrils. It set her on edge and made her wary at the same time.

"As if you don't already know," Narcissa responded placing her hands back into the gloves. She set to work on her row of flowers. Remus had found her the necessary supplies on his trip into town one day and had approached her with the interest almost two weeks ago. She didn't know if he knew of her love for gardening or was just trying to keep her from going stir-crazy, but she could only read over old books or walk through the small three -edroom house so many times.

"No," Remus spoke behind her. "I don't. Otherwise, I wouldn't have asked."

Worn work boots spectacled with mud walked into her line of sight and the warmth from the sun she previously enjoyed turned to coolness as his shadow loomed across her face. Narcissa would have been ashamed of anyone else catching her in plain clothes with dirt smudged under her chin and cheek, but she didn't care one iota showing such a face to Remus. Evidently, he didn't mind either as she turned an indignant face up towards him. "I was simply experiencing a … a momentarily lapse. Is that not allowed?" she huffed, emotions she did not know what to do with spilling over and out of her. Why did he have to smell so alluring? Even covered in dirt, she wanted nothing more than to — she halted that line of thought immediately.

"Oh. Well." Remus stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and she was immediately racked with remorse. No matter her surly moods, she was raised better than that and even she had to admit, Remus Lupin had been nothing but kind and civil to her, considering her unpleasant condition. Even now with the sun back lit against him he looked like some lost little boy thoroughly chastised.

She ducked her head, mindful of the moonlight tresses that fell over her shoulder. "Forgive me. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

"All is forgiven. Lovely day, isn't it?" Remus turned to look at the clear sky, a few wisps of white dotted the upper skies, but the March sun shone fiercely.

She bit back a smile. Remus certainly had a cheery disposition about him. She could hardly count the times she had seen him lose his temper. Other than some private Floo calls she had eavesdropped on where tense conversations dominated the air, she had scarcely heard him raise his voice, ever. Gryffindors, she thought with another smile. "It is. I thought I could get in a few good hours in while I have the sunlight."

"It's been too long since this place as seen any greenery or color. It would certainly liven up the place." His eyes squinted as he looked about the land, but Narcissa turned her attention to the ground and away from the red whiskers growing under his chin. She wondered what it would taste like to lick his skin?

She shook her head at the wayward thought. "I'm not planting to 'liven up this place' as you so aptly put it. It helps takes my mind off things," she spoke to herself, but she knew he had heard.

"Right."

"Have you any news from Wiltshire?" she asked, trying not to sound terribly intrigued, but silently anxious for good news. What good news, she couldn't say: that Fenrir had been dismembered, that Voldemort had been destroyed, or that her home was once more open to return without fear tracking her every step.

Remus was silent for a few moments and in the space of time, she ceased her tending to look up at him. He seemed torn on whether to tell her something, but indecision quickly melted into determination across his rugged features. "You-know-who's is increasing his numbers by the day. From your son's intelligence, an attack on Hogwarts is imminent."

"And what of Fenrir?"

"Still serves his master most diligently," he muttered darkly.

Narcissa twisted her mouth. "You've heard from Draco," she replied despondently. "I've wrote him several letters, but he has only responded to one. He says it is not safe to speak at Hogwarts."

"He is just being cautious. But he's doing alright, Harry informs me," Remus offered slowly, as if gauging her mental well-being. Remus observed her with brown eyes and again, she tried to read the man.

Her pale brows drew down in agitation. The moment snapped before she could reel it in and she took it out on the only constant in her life. "If you have something to say, then just come out and say it!" she snapped throwing down the rake with a frustrated huff. "I know you are hiding something from me. I see it in your eyes." She challenged him with her own pale blues.

A slow smile graced his lips before he answered with another infuriating question. "How much has Draco told you?"

"Regarding  _what_  exactly, Mr. Lupin?" She stood to her feet, suddenly done with enticing smells and gardening for the day. Shaking off her skirts, she continued, "You'll have to be a bit specific. Evidently, my son doesn't share with me as openly as he does with Mr. Potter," she finished. Turning on a heel steeped in mud, she began the short walk towards the house. The soft footfalls beside her told her she would not be walking to the house alone. As if she expected anything else.

"What do you know about Draco's relationship with Mr. Potter?" he asked in the somewhat companionable silence.

"I know it is an adversarial relationship at best, or rather _was_. I suppose that is water under the bridge by now." Again, she wondered how much of her life had passed her by while she whittled away time at Howell House. She felt cruelly left out, the choice taken from her without her consent.

She could see Remus nod out of the corner of her eye. "I would say it most definitely is. Since you've not been privy to werewolf lore as much as I have, I gather it's only fair that I tell you now. You're going to find out one way or another."

They had reached the back porch and while Remus walked up the three steps to the porch door, Narcissa did not move from the bottom landing. "What is going on, Remus?" she implored to his back. He turned and arched a brow at her, but she was so very tired of him handling her like she was glass. It infuriated her to no end! "You do not have to sugarcoat everything for me; I assure you I can handle more than you think! The past few months have been difficult, I will not lie, but hiding the truth from me won't accomplish a thing. Now if there is something you wish to tell me, then out with it. I'll deal with the aftermath on my own if need be." She lifted a dirt-smeared chin and waited for what seemed like an eternity. She would find out the truth, one way or another.

Remus smirked when she finished her mini-outburst and walked carefully to the edge of the landing; his boots teetering over the rim of the porch. She wondered just how much was he holding back from her? "Draco, you, and I are similar in more ways than one, Narcissa," he stated plainly. "What your son has neglected to tell you is that he, Harry, and Hermione Granger have undertaken a bond intended for our kind only; werewolves." Her eyes grew wide the admission. "But it is not just any bond, but what we," he pointed to her and himself, "know as the  _ame de loups_. A sacred, powerful bond that has not only altered the relationship between your son and his mates, but has granted them power and strength beyond our own natural abilities."

She blinked, temporarily stunned into silence. Her brain processed too quickly for her mouth to keep up and she struggled over the words. "Draco … is a werewolf?" she whispered as hot tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. "But for how long … and why wouldn't he tell me?"

"From what I can gather, since sometime last summer. You remember what I told you about Draco coming to Harry for help?" She nodded and Remus continued, walking down the steps to meet her at eye level. "At some point before the start of the term, all three performed the ritual. Normally, such a ritual wouldn't have made an impact on ordinary magical folk, but … and I speak this with the upmost sincerity, Narcissa … your son has been called to receive this gift…"

"A  _gift_?!" Narcissa spat, a sneer crawling up one side of her mouth. "Why on earth would anyone call 'this' a gift?! This life is little more than a destitute hermit, doomed to live on the fringes of society. And if this is to be my misfortune, then so be it. But … my son?!" She could not stop the tears that broke free and the March sun did nothing to warm the wetness on her cheeks.

"It is not a condemned life as you believe it to be," Remus countered. "An  _ame de loups_  is a revered bond, nigh unheard of in the magical world. They do not suffer as we do. They will be granted powers we cannot have and once their bond has matured, they will be seen as gods among our kin!" Remus rushed out as he pleaded with her to see reason. "I cannot give you back your old life, try as I may, but there are forces moving with or without your consent, Narcissa. And if the fates have seen a place in it for your son, who are we to question it?" He secured her shoulders in his hands, forcing her to look him in the eye. She warred with the temptation to drop her gaze to his mouth.

"Fate?" she mocked as she sidestepped his grasp, determined to outlast this heady calling her wolf unleashed upon her. "Fate as taken my home, my life, and now my son! What else is there?" Narcissa sneered, "She is a cruel mistress indeed if you think I count this all," she waved a wild hand at the house surrounding them, "a blessing from above! Ha!" Gathering her skirts, she pushed through the flimsy screen door, forgetful of the worn hinges that barely held the door upright.

But Remus was right behind her. "You may not, but  _I do_!" With a firm grip on her elbow, he swung her around to face him, his eyes dark on hers. Her womb clenched in anticipation, but the feeling was lost under his wrath. "You are not the only one to feel fate's cruel sting from one little bite," he scoffed. "She stole from me a childhood well before I stepped onto the Hogwarts' Express, and I was punished for something that happened in my father's time. She taunted me with my greatest love only to give her to someone I could never be! She gave me twenty years of endless wandering, no luxurious Manor to sleep in at night, no wife to keep my bed warm, and or son to keep my heart full. And yes, she  _did_  allow your son to meet with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, who in turn had somewhere to bring you when you were gravely injured and not long for this world. And if your son had not came to Harry for help, if Draco never brought you to Grimmauld Place that night, then I would have lost you for good. So, yes Narcissa,  **that**  I do count it as a blessing! And if I had to suffer twenty years for such a moment, then I would count it  _all_  a blessing, every last minute of it! Because it brought me to you!" he finished on a ragged breath, his chest heaving with emotion. His eyes fell to her mouth this time and suddenly the feeling was back. Something told her to move back, but it was weak and distant as she greedily inhaled the aroma that was Remus' alone.

With a steadying breath, Narcissa slowly dislodged her arm from his grip and rubbed the sore spot. "I don't know what you expect from me, but it is something I cannot give," she whispered as she folded arms over her middle to hide the small tremors of her fingers. She could taste the devotion, the yearning upon his lips, but she closed her eyes against the thought of it. Something screamed at her the moment she moved away. She could barely deal with her own thoughts on the matter and to add another to the mix was more than she could bear. "There are times when I don't know whether to thank you for saving my life or curse you for bringing me into this," she chokingly admitted.

Frustrated, Remus replied, "I have never done much for selfish gains; it is not my way. But I would make the same decision if I had to re-do that night over, no matter the consequences it has brought."

"Yes, and it is I who has to live with the consequences!" Narcissa nearly yelled, hoping to drown out the torrent of emotions within her. "I,  _myself,_  not you — "

He threw his hands out. "When will you accept that you are not alone in this?" Remus asked, exasperated and put off.

"What?" She took a step backwards.

"Did you honestly think yourself alone in this?" Carefully he walked towards her, approaching her as if she were some frightened doe. "Even if I had made a thousand promises to your son, I would not leave you, Narcissa. I would never -" Whatever he was about to say was cut off when the fireplace indicated he had incoming Floo call. Piercing her with a look that clearly said they were not finished with this, Remus quickly made his way to the fireplace where Harry's face appeared in the green flames.

"What is the matter, Harry?" Remus tried to steady his voice, and clear the gamut of emotion from their earlier conversation.

"It's fixed, Remus! I don't know how, but someone got inside Hogwarts and fixed the cabinet!"

Narcissa knew she should be worried, although she couldn't tell why. Any questions would have to wait until Remus was through with the call. But she knew from the inflection of worry between Remus and Harry that this was grave news indeed.

"Are you absolutely positive, Harry? Because if what you say is true, then you are no longer safe at Hogwarts!"

We've just got back from the Room of Hidden Things," Harry beseeched from the fireplace, his troubled features clear across the green flames. "Hermione, Draco, and I saw it with our own eyes. Someone has fixed the Vanishing Cabinet."

"What does this mean?" Narcissa asked, as she dropped beside Remus near the fireplace. Harry could not see her nor hear her question.

Remus sighed, his head hung in temporary despair. "It means the corners are closing in faster than either one of us could have anticipated."

Harry persisted through the flame, "What should we do? Hermione thinks we should go to Dumbledore, but I'm afraid if we do, then we'll let whoever fixed the cabinet know we're onto them."

"You are right to be cautious, Harry. I'll inform the Order from my end, nothing specific, just to be prepared to immediately arrive at Hogwarts at a moment's notice. Speak with Dumbledore privately, but do not rush and do not bring attention to yourself," Remus suggested as Harry's floating head bobbled in understanding.

After a few more words, the conversation was ended and Narcissa braved a chance to ask what was on her mind, their earlier conversation temporarily on the back burner. Remus usually did not involve her on any Order business and she never asked what he had gleaned from his private conversations or secret day trips. But if this involved her son and Hogwart's was threatened, then it was her business too. "What will you prepare the Order for?" she asked fearing the worst.

He looked at her expectantly, a weathered look upon his face. "For war."


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind words. Please enjoy this latest chapter!

"For war?" Narcissa questioned as she pieced together remnants of the frazzled conversation. Something had happened at Hogwarts that much she knew, but what was the significance? Although she did not miss feeling like a prisoner in her own home, housing the Dark Lord provided certain advantages, and while she wasn't always privy to everything, she remained in the loop through overheard conversations and family portraits whispering in the hallways. "You mean at Hogwarts? But the students … they're just children!"

Hard lines etched across Remus's weathered face, a harsh by-product of war. "The injustices of war will not grant a reprieve just because they are not of age. It did not when I'd barely reached adulthood. It won't this time either." He pushed from his seat by the fireplace, dusting the soot off his trousers, hastily grabbed his cloak, and shoved a few items inside his pockets.

Narcissa took in the movements, the routine familiar. "Are you leaving again?" Something akin to sadness drifted through the words, although she couldn't place why as she moved to join him.

Remus paused and looked at her, his features softening considerably. "You have just as much stake in this war as I do, Narcissa, if not more. I already told you that I do not hold you here against your will." He held out his hand to her. "Will you join me? Will you join your son in this fight?" He put the choice in her hands.

She had already begun to move away from the Dark Lord out of fear for her family. Her nightmarish attack at Voldemort's command had all but sealed the switch, but she was wary at raising a wand at everything she had been raised to believe in. But still, something in her gut pushed her to take a step forward. "But I do not have a wand. How can I fight?"

Remus moved across the kitchen and lifting a dusty blue rug with his shoe, he revealed the wooden panels beneath. He bent down and pushed upon the corner of the floor, revealing a secret compartment. He pulled out a long piece of wood wrapped in linen. "Your sister, Andromeda, had this spare wand in her home. It was taken from one of our own after they fell in battle. When I told her you were without a wand, she gave this to me. To give to you when you were ready." Remus handed her the wand and fashioned his cloak over his shoulders.

Narcissa took the wand and felt magic course through her. She felt whole, and once more, the ability to conduct magic was back at her fingertips. Being without the ability to conduct magic (she could perform certain wandless magic here and there) for so long left her feeling empty. Now she welcomed the extension as if greeting an old friend. "Thank you." She looked from the piece of wood with tears of gratitude in her eyes at the man across from her. Their earlier conversation floated back to her ears.

Remus nodded once. "We leave for the Order then…that is if you are coming?" He held a cloak out to her, which she took as well.

This was her opportunity. Perhaps she could not wield the wand, as she was not its original owner, but she was sure she could Apparate if she wished it so. She could leave this place and return back to Wiltshire. But something within the confines of her heart whispered for her to stay. When the mousy-haired gentleman held his hand out to her, she felt no hesitation placing her own in his hand.

With a sharp squeeze and a small pop, the unlikely pair were taken away from the house in Cardiff and landed in the middle of a white-pebbled lane. Night had fallen, and she followed the lane to a white cottage trimmed in navy about the windows and doors. Remus knocked quickly at the blue door, sporting a golden-laden number 'six'.

Narcissa shifted lightly behind him, nervous about where he brought them to. She knew he would not willingly place her in harm's way, but it did not stop the fluttering of nerves that gripped her. She had been isolated for too long. Her confidence had been shaken from Fenrir's attack, and she felt a portion of that Black-instilled confidence slip. What if these people hated her on sight? What if they shunned her without giving her a chance? A brief time ago, she would have done the same.

A large hand found hers and warmth was suddenly squeezed into her. Remus looked down at her, the familiar smile that greeted for the last three months present and this time, she smiled back.

The door opened to reveal the warmth and the smell of something savory simmering inside. Remus pulled her through the short doorframe as someone greeted him.

"Welcome back. I must admit I wasn't expecting you tonight, Remus, but it is good to see you," a soft female voice pulled Remus into an affectionate hug and when Narcissa locked eyes with the lady of the house, she could not stop her mouth from falling open. "Oh," her sister, Andromeda Tonks, replied as she recognized her baby sister behind Remus.

Narcissa recovered quickly and reverted to her years of decorum. "Sister," she said by way of greeting, sure to withhold any malice and contempt. She tried not to stare, but how her sister had changed since she had last seen her!

The last she saw of Andromeda, the young witch was in her early twenties, waifish and thin, with black curls falling to her waist. Narcissa had always admired her for her stylish robes growing up. Except now, Andromeda was no longer fashioned in the highest quality linen and fabrics. Ironically, she was dressed much like Narcissa was: in a plain brown cotton blouse, a simple skirt, and sensible black boots. Narcissa guessed she wasn't one to talk.

Andromeda pulled away from Remus and moved to stand in front the part of the family that exiled her after she chose to marry a Muggle-born. Narcissa stood awkwardly in the doorway and briefly considered if her sister was about to throw her out of her home; she would have done the same had the roles been reversed.

Instead, her eyes widened for the second time that night as Andromeda threw her arms around Narcissa's shoulders and embraced her tightly. Momentarily shocked, Narcissa could only stand there as her older sister hugged her, emotions she did not know what to do locked in her throat.

"I am sorry for what has happened to you, sister," Andromeda whispered into her hair. Just like that, the emotions spilled over into tears. Narcissa lifted her arms and returned her sister's embrace. So much had happened, so much she wanted to say, but for the moment, all she could do was cling to the woman who had the biggest reason not to touch her at all.

The two witches pulled apart after a few minutes, small sniffles between them both before Andromeda smiled and took Narcissa's hand. She pulled her out of the doorway and into the house. "Come in. I've just finished supper. Nothing too extravagant, but plenty to go around."

"Thank you, Andromeda. Is anyone else here?" Remus expressed gratitude for them both, knowing Narcissa was still caught in the throes of emotion.

"Kingsley and Ted are in the kitchen speaking. Nymphadora…" Remus stiffened at the mention of her niece's name, but just slightly. "...will be returning from the Ministry shortly, I presume. The Department is keeping her later and later every day it seems." Andromeda led them into the kitchen where a booming wizard, Narcissa knew to be Kingsley Shacklebolt, rose from his seat; he nearly towered in the small kitchen. Slower to rise was a tall man with dark hair she did not recognize but assumed was 'Ted'.

Both greeted Remus easily and affectionately but regarded her with a small handshake and a polite nod. She smiled politely at meeting her brother-in-law for the first time, feeling left out among the group. Narcissa quickly took a seat at the table as Andromeda placed a hearty bowl of soup and bread in front of her. Remus declined to eat for the time being.

"I didn't mean to impose so late in the evening," Remus started gravely, "but something has come to my attention that I felt was necessary for you to know."

"What is it, Remus?" Kingsley asked as he returned to his seat across from Narcissa.

"Harry has informed me that the old Vanishing cabinet within Hogwarts has been fixed," he stated to silence.

"But that was Draco Malfoy's task wasn't it? You-know-who assigned it to him at the beginning of the school year," Ted spoke to the room.

"Yes, and as far as we know, Draco had been stalling to mend the cabinet. A mended cabinet would give you-know-who access to Hogwarts and we both know he is desperate to attack the school," Remus replied.

"Are they are sure it is fixed?" Andromeda asked at the same Kingsley voiced his question.

"Do they have any idea who could have fixed it?"

Remus spoke over their questions. "Harry's positive, and I believe him. And no, they do not know. Someone is working against us. If the cabinet is ready, then we need to be prepared to Apparate to Hogwarts in a moment's notice."

Andromeda crossed her arms, a pensive look on her face. "Dora's told me the Department of Magical Law and Enforcement has assigned increased patrols at Hogwarts. Shouldn't that be enough?"

Kingsley put forth, "Normally, I would agree with you, but even the extra presence of Aurors at Hogwarts would not do much to stop a throng of Death Eaters ready to kill defenseless students. Dumbledore did not want too many Aurors stationed at the school, fearing it would unnecessarily scare the students, not to mention their parents."

"But the school is not safe!" Remus argued. "And now, if it is indeed true that the cabinet is fixed, we need to be there now! I fear we would be too late if we wait for word that Hogwarts is under attack. Every minute is precious, especially when students' lives are at risk."

Narcissa felt her chest squeeze painfully, her mind's eye seeing her son trapped at Hogwarts while Death Eaters attacked the school. They would punish him doubly if Death Eaters were to catch him. The thought made her blood run cold.

"Perhaps, we can move reinforcements to Hogsmeade," Ted offered. "And wait there."

"I am not keen on waiting at The Three Broomsticks for an attack that may never come," Kingsley deadpanned. "Despite the hospitable atmosphere from its keeper," he gave a smile.

"Even then, it may alarm the students and we all know that some are the children of Death Eaters," Remus caught eyes with Narcissa briefly and she lowered hers, thinking her son fit in that category. "They may alert their parents to our movements before we even settled in," Remus finished.

"What is Harry doing?" Kingsley inquired. "Has he spoken with Dumbledore yet?"

"I cautioned him to wait before approaching Dumbledore. If someone has gotten inside Hogwarts to fix the cabinet, then it would do no good to alert them. Stealth must be applied here." Remus looked about the room, piercing everyone with a serious stare. "The point remains; we must inform everyone of this latest development. Travel in person, but do not use the post. Time is running out and while I  _do_  hope that an attack never materializes, I think we have to consider the possibility that one is coming. Whether we are prepared for it or not." His gaze finally landed on Narcissa as she felt a pull to his words like never before. He had a reserved leadership quality she never noticed until now and sat at attention to his quiet order. "We need everyone we can find to fight. Anyone you can think of. Hogwarts, our students, and our world are on the line."

Later that evening, after the kitchen had been cleaned (she loved being able to use magic to put the dishes away — no more scrubbing by hand!), Narcissa found herself settling in her sister's guest bedroom. Remus was downstairs getting ready to leave with Ted and Kingsley for their late-night visits to other safe houses across the island.

A knock at her door brought her from of her thoughts as she placed the magical photo of Andromeda, Ted, and Nypmphadora Tonks back on the dresser.

Narcissa opened the door to find Remus standing in her doorway. She suppressed a smile at seeing the man and bashfully lowered her eyes. "I never got a chance to say 'thank you' for bringing me here. I didn't think I would ever see my sister ever again in my lifetime." Just that evening, the two sisters had retired to the porch, while the others remained in the kitchen making plans. A kettle of tea kept them warm and although the conversation was uncomfortable at first, words flowed easily enough. She imagined it would be sometime before the wound between them both was fully healed, but Narcissa had time in spades.

She lifted her eyes to the man waiting in her doorway. "Thank you. It means more than you could know." Making the decision before her mind could process it, she lifted on her toes and pressed her lips to his stubble-covered cheek. A shock she had not been expecting stung her lips as she pulled them in between her teeth and rocked back on her heels. It wasn't an unpleasant shock and gathering by Remus's slightly rounded eyes, he felt it too. "Be safe — wherever you three are going," Narcissa stated quietly.

"I'll be back in the morning," Remus's voice dropped an octave and it did funny things to her insides.

She nodded, not trusting her lips to move, lest they reach up to him again. She strongly considered it. "Okay." She went to close the door between them when Remus stopped her. Confidently, he tilted her chin and placed the softest kiss she could recall in years upon her lips. Shocked and half-scared, she let him. But it was only a second long and just as quick as it started, it ended.

Winded from the chaste touch, she traced her eyes over his face, too afraid to look him in the eye. "Sleep well."

And he was gone.

Narcissa closed the bedroom door and leaned heavily against it. She could not stop the small smile and had the childish idea to touch her lips. She went to bed that night with the silliest smile upon her face and this time, welcomed her nightly dreams with open arms.

* * *

The crisp night air displaced as the sound of Apparition interrupted the night. The figure moved easily across the Entrance Hall at Hogwarts. Being Headmaster, after all, did have its privileges. The castle was silent as Albus Dumbledore walked nonchalantly through the stone hallways. How dare that ungrateful wizard question his agenda? The dark wizard known formerly known as Tom Riddle wouldn't have been where he was today without his tutelage and guidance over the past decades.

As he moved through the halls, Dumbledore stopped to chat briefly with a few of the portraits before carrying on, his thoughts on the evening still fresh on his mind.

Dumbledore felt the smallest twinge of pity for young Draco Malfoy and the pain he must've endured as he cowered before the Dark Lord. He'd heard that the boy was now in Madame Pomfrey's care after leaving Malfoy Manor, but he thought no more on it. The lad had been given a chance to deny his involvement at the beginning of the school year. He had made his choice then, and now, he had to see it through to the end.

Just as Dumbledore had also made a choice.

Fate had not been kind to the Dumbledore family and through Albus' eyes as a boy, he saw the blame fall squarely on Muggles. His father had been given a life sentence in Azkaban for avenging his sister's, Ariana, tragic assault. After Dumbledore's mother was killed by a burst of his sister's uncontrollable magic, he went into a state of bitterness, left alone to care for a broken family.

It was the early 1900s when Albus had met a young Gellert Grindelwald and became quickly enamored by the idea of Wizarding domination over Muggles. Wanting to showcase his brilliance and avenge his sister's brutal assault, Dumbledore partnered with Grindelwald and latched onto the idea that the Wizarding kind was the dominating species on the planet. The thought festered in his heart and he nursed it like a gaping wound until all he could see were his mother, father, and sister's faces before him; their life had cruelly been stolen by Muggles. But just as the two wizards began to get down in their work, Dumbledore's plans for revenge began to unravel.

A few years in on their partnership, Grindelwald had a change of heart and wanted to scrap their plans, claiming he had been enlightened. But they had gone too far, and Dumbledore had invested too much. Retribution for his family was close at hand and he would not let Grindelwald deter him.

And so a heated argument in the middle of the night turned into a taxing duel, leaving Dumbledore the victor and Grindelwald dead. His brother, Aberforth, tried to pin the death on Albus, but without any proof or evidence, the Wizengamot could not find him guilty.

So with Grindelwald out of the way, Dumbledore continued his plan alone. His sister died fitfully in her sleep a year later, her uncontrollable magic too wild for her body, and he promised her memory that he would avenge her where his father could not, where Grindelwald could not. But as he grew in power, he knew that others would rise to stop him. He took a teaching job at Hogwarts, trying to build his influence while at the same time trying to hide his prowess on dragon's blood and alchemy. But the allure of power and control always goaded him to collect more and when he met a young, charismatic Tom Riddle, he saw another opportunity unfold before him.

As a student, Tom had always been exceptionally bright, inquisitive, and full of potential, much like himself at that age.

Dumbledore kept his eye on Tom throughout his Hogwarts days and while the young lad had fooled and charmed the majority of professors at Hogwarts, Dumbledore knew better. He especially tuned into Riddle after the boy released the Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets and succeeded in framing Hagrid so easily.

In 1956, as Dumbledore ascended to the position of Headmaster at Hogwarts, Tom had approached Dumbledore for a job. Dumbledore saw the underlying ambition in Tom's eyes for it mirrored his own. He knew of Tom's illicit activities at the time but still dismissed Riddle from the teaching post. Instead, he offered to help him procure an even more  _powerful_  position.

_Dumbledore pierced the young wizard with a sharp gaze. He felt it his duty to caution the wizard, but internally he was pleased and not at all surprised. "To proceed as you are now will only land you in Azkaban or dead. Surely you see that." Both wizards stood in the Dumbledore's new chambers. The Headmaster suite was certainly more spacious than his previous cabinet-sized accommodations. The formal suite was adorned with a sunroom that allowed for entertaining guests and while today's visit had started in the most mundane of fashion, their conversation had taken a most interesting turn._

_Dumbledore knew to watch Riddle while he was a student for a reason. Although the reasoning at the time had eluded him, watching the confident young man explain his ambitions and why he truthfully sought the DADA position illuminated ideas in Dumbledore's mind and quickly, the gears began to turn._

_Riddle eyed Dumbledore, a look of surprise and faux-penitence upon his boyish features. "You would turn me in for a discussion on hypothetical's? You must know, I would never mean to offend your sensibilities, Headmaster."_

_A knowing smile graced Dumbledore's features and he beamed inward. Oh, Tom would be a great asset. Dumbledore leaned back in his seat behind the grand Headmaster's desk, his hands folded lightly across his chest. "Help will be always given to those at Hogwarts; one would need only ask." Dumbledore offered a piece of candy from his newly-installed bowl of sweets to the dumbstruck young wizard before him. "Chocolate?"_

_Riddle did not move to take the pre-offered treat. "You're…serious?" he asked incredulously, carefully trying to probe the mind of the wizard across from him and failing._

_Dumbledore was too skilled in Occlumency for such a probe. "You are not the only wizard with certain… inclinations, Tom. I, too, have been seeking payment against those who have wronged my family," he spoke gravely. Riddle was caught in his own affairs to know much about Dumbledore's past and humble beginnings. He only imparted to Riddle the absolute minimum, but it was enough to win the man's persuasion._

" _And what payment would you deem worthy? Would you punish the Muggles who destroyed your family?" Tom studied Dumbledore, doubtful his former Hogwarts professor was anything but the saintly, sage wizard he always appeared to be as he searched for clues to the contrary._

" _What I seek, is for my knowledge only. But I would not impede you, nor betray you. You're not likely to find such assistance in the Wizarding world and I'll not offer it again. Do we have an accord?"_

" _An eye for an eye?" Tom quirked a brow as he held an open hand out to Albus Dumbledore._

_Dumbledore took the hand into his own, and shook it, sealing his promise and a partnership built on mutual understanding. "A life for life," he promised._

After their alliance had been established, Dumbledore began to mentor the young Riddle. Riddle advanced soundly in the Dark Arts as Dumbledore knew he would and what material he could not procure on his own, Dumbledore acquired for him in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts' massive library. His actions were never noticed by the school and secretly, he passed the information onto Riddle. The two would meet in the late hours of the night to discuss future tactics and plans.

The Ministry would need to be infiltrated, and supporters of the cause (Riddle pressed the issue of blood supremacy and elevation over Muggles) would need to be rallied. They would need monetary support from the pureblood families, who were drowning in wealth. Most longed for a return to the days of old. If they truly wanted to bring down the Ministry, Dumbledore knew an army had to be built: sheer brilliance and desire alone could not bring him the vengeance he sought. But in his position, Dumbledore could not recruit an army on his own. So, Tom Riddle took up the task under a new name. And thus, Dumbledore's plan continued to grow.

As the 1970s saw Lord Voldemort's first rise to power, Dumbledore advised against their continued meetings. He grew paranoid that others would begin to suspect him of aiding a known practitioner of the Dark Arts. Voldemort grew distrustful and believed Dumbledore distanced himself because their world had begun to associate fear with the Dark Lord's name. But in a bit of brilliance (even he had to admit), Dumbledore formed the Order of the Phoenix. It was the perfect way to cover his association and gain insider intelligence. As the head of the Order, he could inform Voldemort if and when, any detrimental movements were in the works.

And so the perfect alibi had been set. Dumbledore played his part so well that even his closest associates had no idea where his true loyalties laid. Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody, Bathilda Bagshot, the Ministry: they never suspected him.

Villainy wears many masks. None so dangerous as the mask of virtue.

While Dumbledore publicly denounced the Dark Lord, he secretly assisted the Dark's movements behind closed doors. He didn't particularly care for Voldemort's desire of pureblood superiority, he was a half-blood himself, but the end justified the means. In the end, Muggles would be put in their rightful place. Voldemort's war would allow Dumbledore to reshape the world as he saw fit.

Dumbledore led the Order on strikes and assured a few 'victories' so his followers would believe they were gaining ground when in actuality, they never stood a chance at all. Bright witches and wizards of the age flocked to his side, and while they whispered in his ear what news they had uncovered or what developments they'd recently discovered, he, in turn, whispered it right back to Voldemort. Voldemort, as they agreed, would send fresh recruits to meet the Order in battle, pretending to be caught unawares, and whatever losses he sustained were expendable and not important.

He had done so masterfully a job as the ultimate double agent, that he'd acquired the prophecy from Sybill Trelawney. The Order thought they had an 'in' now that a child with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord had been born. But when Dumbledore had gone to Voldemort with news of the prophecy, he had learned two things that fateful evening in the summer of 1981.

_Voldemort sneered and stalked around the luxurious parlor room of the home he was currently residing in. This time it was his follower, Nott, who had been honored to host his Lord. Hungry red eyes turned to Dumbledore in contempt. "If some soothsayer has foretold of a child with the power to vanquish me, then I will not sit idly by and let him live!" Dumbledore knew Tom wouldn't take kindly to a prophecy detailing his destruction, especially at an infant's hand._

_Dumbledore held his arms calmly in his sleeves as he watched the wizard sink further into madness. The further Tom had delved into the Dark Arts, the more he came to resemble a snake. Dumbledore did not envy him. He could only imagine what it meant to have the Department of Magical Law declare you a dark wizard, your picture everywhere for the world to see and cower; he imagined it brought great paranoia as evidenced by the mutterings of the Lord of the Dark before him. But still, Dumbledore stressed caution. "You cannot be sure. If the child possesses great power as the prophecy foretells, then he could be of use to our cause, Tom. Think of what an asset he will be to us -"_

_Red eyes narrowed to reptilian slits as they bore into him, but Dumbledore did not flinch. "To_ _**you** _ _, you mean! Let's not play games, Albus; I see the lust in your eyes. But_ _**my** _ _plans will not be vanquished by a mere babe!" The air grew heavy with black magic as Voldemort tried to showcase his magical strength. Dumbledore paused and waited, showing the angered wizard that he would not rise to the challenge. After some time, Voldemort sought control over his outbreak and continued their secret conversation. Dumbledore's time with the Order had allowed less and less time to meet. "Although, I'm surprised you didn't tell me of this alleged prophecy sooner. Luckily, my servant Severus was there to overhear the conversation," Voldemort stated plainly. "Why is it he was able to inform me sooner than you were?"_

_Dumbledore shrugged, nonchalant. "I have many roles to play, Tom. I thought you would know more so than the others. But I'm here now, aren't I?" He emphasized the next part, "I still believe the child can be of use to us."_

_But Voldemort would hear none of it, his mind firmly settled. "I want the child destroyed. If I have to do it myself, then I shall."_

" _How will you find the child?" Dumbledore persisted. "The Potters have chosen their secret keeper and even I am not sure who he or she is! I doubt Severus would know either."_

_But the half-snake, half-wizard smiled a toothless smile and gave cryptically, "You have your double agents. I have mine."_

Months later, Dumbledore heard about Lily and James' deaths. The blame was squarely on Peter Pettigrew, the former Order member who betrayed them to the Dark Lord. Although two of the Order's best soldiers had been lost, the world cheered the Potter infant as a hero. Dumbledore could only shake his head at Tom's insolence. But there was one ray of light after Voldemort's defeat; Dumbledore grew even more intrigued about Harry James Potter.

Deciding to keep an eye on the lad, Dumbledore had him hidden away in the Muggle world where his mother's protective spell could endure, in case Voldemort's followers sought vengeance against the boy. He knew when the time came, the boy would be brought back into the magical world. And when the time was right, Dumbledore would slowly guide him, persuade him, and take the innate power the boy had for his own.

Lamenting the progress he had begun to make with Voldemort, Dumbledore saw potential anew rise in the form of Harry Potter. He was, as the Muggles say, ripe for the picking. He recognized and preyed upon the same sense of abandonment, the need for family, and charm that Riddle exuded at the same age. They were different students of course, but the same characteristics that made Voldemort a powerful wizard, lay dormant and unrealized in the young wizard.

Dumbledore, quietly, continued his work with Nicolas Flamel on the Philosopher's Stone when whispers began to arise that Voldemort was not truly dead, but seeking a way to return to a corporeal form. He could not verify the rumors and instead, chose to keep a close eye on Harry for the time being. If Voldemort had truly returned, then he would seek the boy.

Even with Voldemort supposedly defeated, Dumbledore kept up appearances. It would do no good to reverse course now. But the Order had disbanded and for a time, Dumbledore was left in a queer state of limbo, neither moving forward with his plans nor losing ground. But he knew whichever direction ended up in, it would entangle Harry Potter one way or another. Even as a young adolescent, he had a knack for running into these sorts of things.

During the school year, Dumbledore was free to search out any truth to the rumors of his tutee's return. And although the world may not been clued into the signs, Dumbledore saw them for what they were.

The incident with Quirrell.

The opening of the Chamber of Secrets.

All pointed to the clues that Voldemort was gaining strength, that his return was imminent.  
During the year of the Tri-Wizarding Tournament, Remus Lupin had approached him with the possibility of starting the Order of the Phoenix again. While he was bemoaned to do so, it would prove suspicious if he did otherwise. And so begrudgingly, Dumbledore re-formed the team with the hope that it would prove advantageous once more.

Not officially a part of the chain of command, he did not hear of the plan to infiltrate Hogwarts, nor the charade to plant a false Alastor Moody within the castle. But the scheme had worked. By June of Harry's fourth year, Voldemort had officially returned. On his end, Dumbledore re-connected with Alastor Moody, the real one, and between Sirius, Remus, and Kinglsey, the Order devised avenues to lure the Dark Lord out of hiding. After all, it would take more than the word of Harry Potter to convince their world of the Dark Lord's return. After the year's tumultuous end culminating with the Diggory boy's funeral, Dumbledore became increasingly desperate to make contact with the newly-arisen wizard, but both played their roles too well, and were hard pressed to reconnect with the other.

Dumbledore knew that back from 'death', on the outskirts of life, Voldemort was sure to be reckless and focused on destroying the boy for good. He would need counsel, advice, and a laser-like in focus that only he could provide. And as if he had designed it himself fate saw the young Gryffindor arriving in the Department of Mysteries, fooled into believing he was saving his dear Godfather.

Unfortunately, Voldemort almost ruined everything by sending his henchmen to finish the boy. But Dumbledore could see his predictable actions meters away, so he sent members of the Order to meet them in battle and secure Harry's escape. Even if Voldemort could not see it, Dumbledore would not lose another potentially powerful wizard so early in life. Not when there was so much more work to be done.

Dumbledore, hidden away for most of the year, had chosen to appear, once he heard that Death Eaters had followed Harry into the Department of Mysteries. He confronted his wayward protégé in the empty, hallowed halls of the Ministry that night, a dumbstruck Harry shoved behind him.

" _It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom,"_  Dumbledore chided as Voldemort sneered, the anger of being openly defied infuriating him. Dumbledore's only thought was to slow Voldemort's anger and remind him of the futility of such an attack on the boy as Voldemort's brashness had cost him once before. As he imprisoned the vengeful wizard in the dome of water, Dumbledore bid Voldemort away before the Aurors arrived.

But no such thing happened. Voldemort was seen, not only by the Aurors, but by the Minister of Magic himself, and there was nothing Dumbledore could do to cover his sudden reappearance. By the next morning, the entire Wizarding world knew of Voldemort's return.

" _I should have you killed," Voldemort hissed as he slouched on his throne, a worn chair in the dilapidated Riddle home. It had been years since Dumbledore had journeyed to Little Hangleton and he curiously looked around at the decrepit conditions of the once-modest home, not at all put off by the idle threat. "Or worse, expose you for the fraud you are! How dare you interrupt my duel with the boy!" Voldemort sat forward with purpose, still rankled by Dumbledore's interference at the Ministry the past evening. "He is mine, Albus!" he snarled._

" _You've become reckless, Tom," Dumbledore warned. "You would not have been successful tonight."_

" _And how would you know?" Voldemort accused._

" _The Order was right behind us. Your own followers deserted you, none keen on a return trip to Azkaban. Surely you did not think, even if you had been able to destroy the boy, that you would have escaped the Ministry alive?" he asked dubiously. "If anything, you should be thankful you have escaped to see another day, instead of awakening in Azkaban." Dumbledore sat in the chair by the fireplace, his gaze meaningfully on Voldemort across from him._

_Voldemort tented his fingers, each one tapping against each other. "I suppose you want credit? Imagine, what your precious 'Order' would think if they knew you were the one responsible for letting 'he-who-must-not-be-named' escape," Voldemort mocked, a cruel sound meant for a laugh._

" _It is not the time for humor. We nearly lost it all last night; I hope you realize that."_

_Voldemort snarled and walked towards the window, his back towards Dumbledore. "Do not tell me what I have 'nearly lost'. You are not the one who's waited fifteen years for revenge only to have it taken from you at the last possible moment."_   
_The room grew icy as the stirrings of Dumbledore's power licked along his fingers. He struggled to keep his ire in check and cleared his throat audibly. He was in control here; Tom was the one who could barely restrain himself. "I've been waiting for longer than you've been alive, Tom." Voldemort hissed at the repeated mention of his Muggle name. "Do not lecture me on the meaning of patience; I've exuded it more times than you can count. But I digress."_

_And just like that, the ire was replaced by the dangerous calm he had perfected over the years. "You must remain vigilant. Do not get side-tracked by the need for retribution against one young wizard -"_

" _That is easy for you to suggest! It's not your life that hangs in the balance because of a prophecy. It is not your end that has been foretold at the hands of another."_

" _Be that as it may, there is still a goal to be achieved here. And an oath that still needs to be fulfilled."_

" _And I remain your humble servant," Voldemort mocked stiffly with a bow. "But if I so choose to see Harry Potter dead, then I will see it through," he promised._

And so the summer of Harry's sixth year was upon them. Through his rank, Dumbledore found out about Draco Malfoy's sudden involvement with the Order and sent a patronus to Voldemort the very evening Harry, Hermione, and Draco came into his office.

Both he and Voldemort agreed to let Draco continue to believe he was spying for the Order. Voldemort assigned him the menial task of completing the Vanishing cabinet within the Room of Hidden Things.

A headache was coming upon him and vainly Dumbledore wished for a piece of taffy, the remnants of his most recent conversation with Voldemort floating back to his consciousness. It was taxing arguing with a madman, he thought wryly to himself.

" _Since my way of doing things is foolhardy and would ultimately lead to failure, then what would you, in your infinite wisdom, propose?" Voldemort asked, full of scorn as he regarded his mentor._

" _Attack Hogwarts," Dumbledore stated easily. He was running out of ideas and he knew Voldemort was becoming … antsy. Perhaps, this would afford him a little leeway. "Persuade your followers that the target is me. I'm valuable enough to the Order. Surely, it would whet their appetites to gain such a victory."_

" _Since the target will obviously not be you, who will it be?"_

" _Why Harry, of course! I've been allowing him to view my earlier memories of you through the years, oh nothing detrimental mind you," he rushed at Voldemort's affronted look. "Just certain glimpses into your motivations, what drives you. I imagine he has seen more of himself in you than he has let on and is very confused. It has been my intention through the year to sway Harry to our side." Dumbledore held up a hand, effectively silencing the wizard as if he was the Professor and Voldemort was the wayward student. In some ways, he still was. "I know of your objections, Tom. I have heard them for more than sixteen years now, but hear me," he stated with quiet forcefulness. "Harry Potter is a powerful wizard and will be only become more so as he ages. It would be unwise to overlook such an asset to our overarching cause."_

" _And what cause would that be, Albus? It seems the longer our partnership extends, the more I question if what we want truly want, converges as you led me to believe all though years ago," he finished in a deceitfully soft voice._

" _Never question my motivation, Tom. You would do well to remember that. I speak the truth, and your fear of the letting boy live only cements the fact. You've done a poor job of hiding it from anyone who wishes to see. You fear a child, with good reason. But Harry Potter does not have to be a challenge to your reign. If anything, such a knight for our side will only strengthen such a rule."_

_Voldemort thought pensively on this suggestion before asking, "And how is this conversion through memory progressing?" Voldemort smirked, knowingly. "As successful as you hoped it to be?"_

" _Like I said, Harry is confused, but with the proper guidance, I believe I can put him into play," Dumbledore gave confidently. "Give me until May; it will be close to the end of the school year by then. If I am wrong, then attack the school and take the boy. But if I am right…"_

_Voldemort waved a hand out of respect. "Then I would defer to you what to do with him, just as I always have, Albus. So, we are agreed," he announced excitedly, the prospect of blood enticing him. Dumbledore hoped many students would not have to die, but such was life. "I will begin the necessary preparations now. My followers are hungry for blood; I feel this mission will be good for them. I'll convince them that we set out for Hogwarts to capture and execute you. This will give you adequate time to bring the boy to our side, but should you fail,_ _**you will** _ _yield me the boy," he emphasized._

_Dumbledore raised a grey brow and replied skeptically, "I gave you the location of the Order's headquarters over the Christmas holiday and you still failed to secure you the boy. Are you positive, Tom, that this is the avenue you wish to pursue?"_

_The Order had a problem with secret keepers turning on them. Voldemort had grown more anxious and desperate to prove to his amass of supporters that he was the one they should fear and not Harry Potter. So it was with a mild reluctance that Dumbledore revealed to Voldemort Grimmauld Place. And they both know he failed to capture Harry that night._

" _He is a deterrent to my goal and will always be a thorn in my side," he replied full of malice and contempt. "If what the recovered prophecy predicts is true, I see no use for him alive, Albus."_

_Dumbledore sighed. Resigned, "Then we are agreed. Since we both know that Draco Malfoy has no intention of fixing the broken Vanishing cabinet, I'll take on the task myself. I'll send word when the cabinet is complete."_

" _See that you do."_

" _Keep a weather ear open. Until next time." Dumbledore gave a cryptic smile before disApparating and leaving Little Hangleton._

That close brought Dumbledore back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore walked along the castle's halls and took in the first signs of Spring wafting through the night air. April was around the corner and he was running out of time to fully bring Harry under his wing. He knew the boy respected him, believed in him and if he wanted to be successful, the next steps would have to be taken carefully. There would be but one chance.

Otherwise, Voldemort would be upon them all. As he sauntered to himself, his hands fastened behind his back, Dumbledore thought back to one such memory he had allowed Harry to preview before the Christmas break. He half-smiled to himself.

 _"Challenges will always arise, Tom,"_ Dumbledore had spoken to a young Tom Riddle all those years ago _. "The King must die for the next ruler to ascend. If it holds true for Mother Nature, then it holds true for us all."_

Ah, yes. The pride of lions.

Poor Tom and his fear of death and weakness. It was no wonder a prophecy had him running blindly after a boy. In his blind pursuit, Voldemort had yet to realize the true king of this pride. It had always been, and always would be Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Voldemort was just another male cub trying to make a name for himself. Little did he know, he never had a chance; Dumbledore was only using him to do his bidding. It may have been his army and his dark mark; but they would listen to Albus, they would follow and they would fear him. Just as they should.

Just as their puppet master, Voldemort, would.

He had warned Tom to never question his motivation. Grindelwald did.

April was around the corner and that meant Harry Potter had a little over thirty days to choose which side to fight for. Dumbledore respected Harry for the resolve he had shown over the years and he hoped the young wizard would choose correctly.

Or he would find himself in the same boat as Tom Riddle; misguided and woefully out of time.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

Hermione pressed her lips together, but her mates were unrelenting, and the offending giggle slipped out easily enough. Her eyes rolled upward, and she mentally chided herself. How sophomoric could one get, she thought as she giggled like a shameless slag. But the thought did not linger.

Her eyelids drooped as a sigh from somewhere further down the bed tickled the honeyed spot between her legs. Slim digits, she was well accustomed to, perfectly manipulated and played with her clit and again, she tried to wiggle away lest she … A long and guttural moan sounded the ancient Room of Requirement.

For the past thirty minutes, Draco and Harry had taken turns pleasuring her most ardently. They sucked and laved upon her sensitive skin until she was a quivering mess on the grand king bed the Room provided for them. While she lavished in the attention, she pouted as her mates had left her lips woefully neglected. She reached down, not searching for a wizard in particular as her fingertips ran through the softest hair imaginable. Pulling with more force than she intended, suddenly a pair of oh-so-soft, yielding, and probing lips crashed into hers.

Harry.

She smiled into the kiss, her eyes fluttering closed again. It was amazing; she could tell her mates apart just by taste. Smell, too, if she thought about it. She could pick Harry out of a crowd with just her nose. He had the most alluring smell of peppermint and chocolate. It was as if the aroma had permanently fused itself to his skin. Harry's lips pulled away from hers and before she could chase after him, another touched her own.

Demanding, relentless, but saccharine. Draco, Hermione thought behind closed lids as she nipped at his bottom lip.

Draco generally liked his sex rough, they'd slowly come to learn. While she and Harry would accommodate him willingly, there was also another side to the Slytherin not everyone was privy to. Only Harry and she had seen the side the world had not. Had it not been for the  _ame de loups_ , she would have never believed it existed at all.

Pushing to a sitting position, she reacted purely on need. Hermione pulled Draco closer to her, but the tease tried to scoot away. He ducked her advance, but Harry wrapped an arm around Draco's middle. Hermione stared hungrily at the hand that lovingly caressed the Slytherin's sculpted abs.

Hermione reached forward to intertwine her hand with Harry's. Her best friend and lover finally caught her eye and that rebellious twinkle she adored lit his irises from within. Draco laid his hand over theirs and suddenly, the fragile moment was broken, all pretenses were gone. The ache and desire that connected them poured from their skin.

Hermione scooted down the bed and pulled the wizards to her once more. A fleeting emotion she could not name, and could not control, filled every inch of her to the point of bursting. The overpowering, nameless feeling had her sinking and flying at once; it tripled when lips met skin, and again when her hands traced the hard lines of muscle and hair. But more than just a physical response, it gave a sense of safety and protection. She could not admit it aloud, for in small part of her mind, it meant weakness; that she could not take care of herself. But in this way, and only with them, could she admit that she loved feeling small between them; she loved feeling soft against their hard strength.

_Is this love?_  Hermione wondered. The thought escaped before they succumbed to their pleasurable activities again.

Sometime later, the three of them lay ragged on the bed, their breaths a combined melody of exertion. Hermione wiggled against the fingers (she could not tell whom they belonged to) playing against her stomach.

As previous thoughts returned to her, she'd begun to entertain the notion that what she felt for the two wizards was more than lust during the Christmas break. Draco was right that night when he said nothing would ever be the same again. Perhaps, it was because the year was ending, and it remained uncertain where they would go from here. The thought pestered her study sessions of late and finally, she decided it was better to admit the truth when the appropriate time came. She wasn't a coward, but still, the moment had come and her nerves froze nonetheless.

Shakily, Hermione breathed to the ceiling, "I love you." Twin heads of blonde and ebony rose from the bed beside her. They pierced her with a stare of grey and emerald and flame pinked her cheeks. Godric, she was about to ramble; she could feel it. "Of course, I've never been in love … and who's to know if this feeling is merely the aftereffects of vigorous mating or infatuation. Not that I'm complaining, mind you!" she rushed forward, as red doused her entire face. Her eyes trailed off in thought. "Although it could be just the influx of oxytocin …"

"Granger, I swear…" Draco began with a laugh, halting her scientific deductions.

"Hermione." Harry held back a chuckle. A cool hand on her flaming cheek and one on her shoulder had her shutting her mouth and mind entirely. Harry took a moment to glance at Draco before turning bright green eyes back to her. "It's alright."

Draco finished for both of them, "If it's a question of our heart, Granger. You have it."

That stupid giggle was threatening to break through again and it was all she could do to repress the silly notion. A half-grin sat upon her lips instead. She shook her head because she could say no more. They loved her! Someone, make that  _someones_  loved her. It wasn't like her parents who had to, but because they truly did. And they didn't mind her awkward rambling, her love of reading and research, her rationality…

"As much as we love that mind of yours, Granger, it's wandering again," Draco whispered into her ear. His lips tickled her earlobe as she zeroed in the feeling. But their actions could not escalate too far. "The others will be coming soon. Do you really want them to catch us in such a compromising position?"

Hermione sighed as Harry kissed Draco then her. "I could … really give … a flying fig," Harry spoke through the kisses.

She pulled back with a laugh. "Well, you may possess no modesty, but I do." She held out an open-faced palm, the Rune of Courage clear to see. "Now please hand me my shirt."

With a wink and a thought, Draco smiled at her and the bed they were sitting atop of suddenly vanished. All three tumbled to the stone floor, stark naked.  
"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione admonished as she made to stand from the floor. Even though it was June, it was too cold to sit bareback on the stone floor. "I hope to God you didn't vanish our clothes with the bed."

"Have you no faith?" Draco replied as he produced their clothes. A wadded ball of jumpers, pullovers, socks, and jeans lay in his hands. Their shoes were somewhere by the door. Each pulled on their respective items of clothing and commenced the awkward dance of dressing quickly before the holders of the White Tie joined them. They were, for the most part, presentable by the time the others joined.

They greeted each other easily and soon, the discussion turned to their upcoming final exams. They had just reached the details of the Apparition class Blaise, Hermione, and Daphne had recently passed. "Granger, of course, passed with distinction," Blaise drawled.

"Of course," Draco echoed.

"Ron told me the test was difficult," Harry put in, pushing his arms through his pullover.

"Maybe it was difficult for him. I'm surprised Weasley didn't splinch himself into four pieces," Blaise said.

"Ron did pass after some practice … and one trip to Madame Pomfrey," Hermione replied after a thought. "In fact, you and Daphne did great on your tests," Hermione praised the other Slytherins.

"Such high praise from the witch with the distinctive marks," Draco gently teased.

She stuck out her tongue. There she went acting childish again. Her mates had that effect on her. "You wear jealousy very well, Malfoy. I can't help that your and Harry's birthdays fall over the summer holiday," Hermione replied cheekily.

Harry and Draco shared a look. "Next year, then." After a moment, Harry sent Luna a smile. "With Luna, of course."

After the group chatted amicably about end-of-school matters, Hermione got down to why she had summoned her pack on a sunny Saturday afternoon. "I don't think we should wait any longer on going to Dumbledore," Hermione spoke to the group as they sat in the Room of Requirement.

Blaise lounged back on his hands. "Daphne and I have been monitoring the seventh floor on our patrols. If there is a traitor, he or she hasn't visited the room in the intervening time."

Luna shrugged in her conjured chair of whistles and purple twists. "Why would they need to? They've completed the job," she spoke to the group.

Harry nodded tensely. "Which is why we can't wait. I'm going to Dumbledore, tonight. Professor Lupin should have prepared the Order to arrive at Hogwarts by now. We're lucky an attack hasn't broken out in the middle of classes, but we cannot give them the advantage any longer."

"And if you flush out the traitor?" Draco asked, his hands resting elegantly on his knees. "What then?"

Hermione frowned, thinking of the plan she'd begun to formulate just recently. "Then at least we will know who it is. We'll be prepared, though, no matter what."

* * *

Hermione insisted that she and Draco accompany Harry to Professor Dumbledore's office. It was only fitting seeing how the three of them informed him about Draco's joining the Order at the beginning of the year. Now they would accompany Harry to the Headmaster's office on a different matter entirely. The last time they had entered the Headmaster's office together, they had been fractured, were barely speaking to each other, and were dealing with emotions much too strong for them at the time.

Over the course of eight months, Hermione felt a comfort she thought would have never existed between Draco, Harry and herself. They were stronger. Funny, Draco had accused her then of  _loving_  Harry. An ease of contentment existed whenever it was the three of them. Daphne, Luna, and Blaise rounded out their odd group, and all together, they just worked. Blaise and Draco fit in easily with Harry, and strangely she found herself growing closer to Luna and Daphne; bond or no bond.

Hermione watched with a careful eye as they moved up the winding staircase. Said Headmaster sat patiently behind his desk as if he had been expecting them, but then again, he always looked like that.

After offering them a piece of candy, Dumbledore bade them to, "Come in. Do take a seat. What can I help you with on such a fine June afternoon?"

Hermione took a seat to Harry's right, while Draco sat on the other side.

With a breath for courage, Harry began, "We wanted to let you should know that the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things has been fixed," Harry stated plainly. His hands bunched in his pants as he watched for a surprising reaction, a flood of movement or anything.

"Oh." Dumbledore remained seated. "Is there anything else you wish to tell me?"

"Professor," Harry stressed. "The Vanishing Cabinet. It's been fixed and it wasn't any one of us." Harry pointed to himself and his mates.

"Yes, I'm aware Harry. It has been fixed for quite some time. I'm concerned you didn't choose to inform me earlier."

Puzzled, Harry replied, "Sir?"

Draco sat forward in his chair, eyes narrowing, as the balls of his feet slid off the ground.  _He knew! He already knew before us!_

Hermione tried very demurely to cover one hand over the other in her lap, though her own instincts rose in alarm.  _It doesn't mean anything, Draco. Calm down._

_The hell it doesn't!_

"Professor, if Draco didn't fix the Cabinets, then who possibly could have? They would have had to know of its importance to Voldemort," Harry continued. Suddenly, questions started pouring forth, questions that needed answering. "How come the Order doesn't know?" he demanded. When Harry spoke to Remus earlier, his former professor seemed as surprised as he did. Surely, if Dumbledore already knew, then he would have told Remus and the other members of the Order? "Why wouldn't you tell them?"

Dumbledore stood up. "I did not deem it necessary at the time." That had Harry sitting forward in his seat. With a sideways glance to Hermione, who raised her own eyebrows in question, Harry rose from his chair as well. "Please, Harry have a seat." Dumbledore made a gesture with his hand to Harry's now vacant chair.

Harry swallowed roughly. "I rather not. What's going on?"

Hermione knew Dumbledore kept secrets from them all, sometimes for the good of things; but for the life of her, she could not puzzle out why Dumbledore would choose not to inform the Order about the Vanishing Cabinet.

Harry quickly asked, "Why wouldn't it be necessary to inform the Order about an imminent attack on Hogwarts — because that's what it means!" The demand was clear in his voice.

Dumbledore instead started a slow march towards Harry: one the picture of calm, one growing restless.

"I'm afraid I haven't been entirely truthful with you, Harry," Dumbledore began cryptically.

_On your toes, Potter._  Draco spoke to Harry and Hermione as he rose from his seat.

_Harry, I don't like this._  Hermione discreetly dropped her wand from her sleeve as she stood, too.  _He smells of lies._

"While we all knew young Mr. Malfoy never intended to fix the cabinet, what I neglected to tell you, was that  _not_  fixing the cabinet was never an option." All three stood puzzled; their silence allowed Dumbledore to continue.

"Harry, I'm afraid there won't be time tonight to explain all, but you need to make a choice."

"What choice?" Hermione questioned sharply.

"Need I remind you, you still haven't told us why you neglected to mention the fixed cabinet to the Order," Draco reminded him.

And very simply, with his hands held together in front of him, Dumbledore answered, "I fixed it because Tom wanted it so."

Hermione's eyes widened and Harry's mouth dropped open. had the misplaced feeling to laugh in shock. Clearly, he did not say what she thought she heard?

"Because… **what**?!" Harry rounded back at Dumbledore.

"Many years before you were born, Tom and I entered a partnership unbeknownst to others. He had his goals, and I mine. We found ourselves traveling a similar path. Where there were places I could tread, he could not, and quid pro quo. Remember the pride of lions? Tom seeks to build a world the way he sees fit. Together you and I could build such a world. But you must hurry. There is not much time."

Because somewhere across the castle a slow winding door handle turned and clicked. A door opened into the Room of Hidden Things and a grin split across Bellatrix Lestrange's lips.

Back in Dumbledore's office, a stunned Harry took a step away from the wizard, even as the elder wizard cautiously approached him. Hermione stood protectively on his right, Draco on his left.

_Merlin, the old man's in deeper than we thought!_  Draco thought.

_There has to be some sort of reasoning behind this! Harry!_  Hermione reached out to him through their link, but Harry did not answer. He was too shocked to reply.

"Professor Dumbledore …?" Hermione's question faded at the tip of her tongue, her wand sliding through her fingers.

"You … all this time?" Harry spoke aloud, bewildered. "But  _why_?"

"Tom has been most relentless in his pursuit of you all these years, surely you must know that." Dumbledore paused before the trio, eyeing them each for a moment. "I am truly sorry I could not protect your parents, Harry. They were good wizards, just unfortunately in the wrong place at the wrong time. I cannot extend such an offer to others I'm afraid, but if you choose to come with me, I promise I will keep you safe from him."

_What is he talking about?_ Hermione asked as something hot licked up her spine.

Harry did not answer his  _Lupa_  as confusion demanded he sought clarity. "What do you mean 'come with you'?"

A loud explosion shook the castle. Even the Headmaster's quarters were not immune from its reaches and the trio rocked on their feet to steady their balances.

"Voldemort comes for you tonight, Harry. I've held him back as long as I could, stalling throughout the year. I gave him Grimmauld Place in effort to placate him, but he seeks you in earnest now." At the mention of how they were overrun at Christmas and how it cost him Sirius' home, Harry darkened. "When I had heard of the prophecy all those years ago, I knew then that you were someone special, and while Tom wanted to rid himself of you, a threat to his burgeoning reign, I saw the benefits of one so strong. I still do." Dumbledore reached forth a hand towards Harry's scar, but Hermione stepped forward to stop him.

"Don't. Touch him," Hermione enunciated each word.

"Step back," Draco warned at the same time.

Dumbledore's hand dropped with a sigh of resignation. "Very well. Is that your decision?"

"I didn't know a decision had been made," Harry replied as more shocks sounded deep within the castle.

Hermione turned her head towards the door.  _The Death Eaters — they're coming!_

Harry shook his head sadly. "Professor, the school is under attack. Will you do nothing?"

"The Death Eaters may engage the Aurors who get in their way, but the attack will be swift and not too unpleasant. Harry, take my hand." Dumbledore once more extended a hand to Harry.

By that time, Draco had enough. He withdrew his wand and aimed it at Dumbledore, a wild light in his eyes. "We said  _don't touch him_." But Dumbledore would not be deterred and with a wave of his hand, he had Draco and Hermione bound. Their arms snapped to their sides, tied by invisible binds. Dumbledore focused his attention on Harry as the sounds of spellfire drew near.

"I know you seek retribution for what Tom has done to your family, Harry and if you come with me, you will have it. You will have all of it and more," Dumbledore swore. Harry shared a look with Draco and Hermione before turning back to Dumbledore. He had one second to consider it, and while it did sound tempting, he thought of his mates first. "Right now, all I want you to do is let go of  _my_ family, Professor." Harry squeezed his fist, bolstered by the heat he found building beneath the surface. Dumbledore's brows drew down in confusion. "You're hurting Draco and Hermione. Let them go," Harry spoke clearly. " **Now**."

The elder wizard's shoulders dropped in deflation and he acquiesced. "Have it your way, Harry. I'll not offer you this chance again. I was hoping you'd reconsider."

Furiously blinking back tears, Hermione shook her head, one arm on Harry's elbow, pulling them towards the stairs. "You'll have to get through us first," she promised, hurt and anger overpowering her voice.

"I was afraid of that, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore forewarned darkly. "You see, Tom was most adamant that you not escape tonight alive. And well, if are refusing my offer, then you are forfeiting your life."

"You wouldn't dare," Draco answered sharply, their limbs once again freed from constriction.

"You'll find there isn't much I have done over the years to get what I want Mr. Malfoy." And before Dumbledore could flick his wrist and complete the spell, Hermione gave a great yell.

" _Tunc Duratus!_ " The room froze; from the fluttering Fawkes to Dumbledore's aim. Hermione touched a petrified Harry and Draco and they were able to move once more, the spell no longer freezing their movements.

"What did you just do?" Draco asked as he stared about at the room. Dumbledore stood in stasis, his mouth open in mid-curse, his eyes and wand trained on Harry.

"I've frozen time momentarily. Only the caster can unlock those within reach. Come on!" Hermione pulled on both of their arms. "We don't have much time before the spell wears off." She raced towards the door.

They looked back sadly at their Headmaster, a disillusioned look on their faces. It was the last they saw of Albus Dumbledore before they moved down the spiral staircase.

By the time they reached the bottom, Harry had wiped any remaining evidence of tears as his sensitive ears picked up the sounds of battle inching closer.

As Hermione paced the length of the hallways and issued commands, wayward curls flew wild with magic and the night wind. "Draco, I'm going to contact Blaise and the others. I'll have them meet you down by the Entrance hall," she pushed authority into her voice even as angry tears gathered in her eyes. Immediately going into survival mode, Hermione knew it was the only way they would see morning. "Harry, we need to warn whomever we can. It may not be too late. Hopefully, the Aurors will have already alerted the Ministry."

"Potter, do you know what this means?" Draco asked.

Harry grabbed his hair with both hands, his wand almost slipping through his fingers. "How can I possibly know!? I don't … I can't make any sense of it myself!" The edges of his heart splintered dangerously and once more, he felt used and cast aside.

"Guys," Hermione tried to calm them down, although her nerves were racing a mile a minute. "Let's not fight about this now. We'll deal with this later. Right now, there are other things more important."

Like their pack and their friends, unsuspecting of the war crashing into Hogwarts.

* * *

Although Narcissa visited the village of Hogsmeade countless times in the past, by the time Remus had Apparated them past the Shrieking Shack, it was as if Narcissa was visiting the village for the first time. Her elevated senses allowed her to see further down High Street and the smells from HoneyDukes and the Herbology shop mixed strangely with the burst of spring in the air.

It all seemed very fitting and normal for the beginning of June in Scotland; the screams and sounds of battle did not. Remus raced ahead of her, blazing a path into the Shrieking Shack, although she did not know why. He moved with a familiar ease through the dilapidated building, but she trusted him enough not to question as he led them through the dark tunnels. She had to duck her head after the first knock against a low-lying ceiling. But she managed well enough on her own. As they exited, she found herself at the large roots of the Whomping Willow, securely on Hogwarts' ground. She would have smiled in nostalgia if it had not been for the ominous crack of thunder coming from the castle ahead.

They had received the call a little after sunset from the Aurors stationed on the school's grounds. Death Eaters had entered the school. Not a minute later, they were hastily preparing to Apparate to Hogsmeade, time too precious to Floo call the others.

More reflex than anything, Narcissa blocked a jet of light as they approached a long corridor just off the courtyard. It was then she wondered if she was truly on the right side of this fight. As Remus joined in the fight, his form agile and aim sharp, she knew she was.

Turning, she fired off spells in rapid succession. Although she had not held a wand in some months, the magic in her blood returned with renewed vigor and she smiled as one of her hexes took down an unknown Death Eater. Every mark became repayment for what had happened to her. Every aim made true was retribution for her son and justice for herself. Each strike secured her place beside Remus.

She turned to fire at an approaching Death Eater, but the second half of the curse died upon her lips as she watched that long, pale hair float in the wind. Her wand arm dropped lifelessly at her side.

"Lucius." Narcissa didn't know what feeling would overtake her, so much had happened since she saw him last, but she could not deny the excitement of seeing him alive and well in the flesh. Besides the gaunt look that would disappear with rest and food, he looked no more different than when she'd saw him last. She quickly added the months and realized it had been a year since he had been carted off to Azkaban. She ran up to him, but he swung away from her violently.

"Remove your hands at once!" he hissed.

Her hand tried to grab his wrist. "Lucius? Why are you acting like this?"

Lucius wrestled her arm from his clothes and snarled disdainfully. "I know what you are. You have been infected with that creature's filthy blood." He tossed her to the ground. "You're no longer fitting to be my wife," he spat as he straightened his robes. "Thankfully, you've already borne me an heir."

Her hair fell out of her cloak, tossed loose from the tie that held it back, and she faced off with her husband of almost twenty years. "But all of the years I have given you! I loved you!" she reasoned with him from the floor. Did she really think he would just welcome her back with loving arms, despite what she was? A minuscule part of her did. It quickly died.

Lucius sneered down at her. "Come now, 'Cissa, we've known of the arrangement between our families since we were children," he gave by way of an explanation.

She breathed harshly through her nose, aghast. "But … I've  _waited_  for you. I allowed those monsters into my home for you! And this is how I'm repaid." Soon her vision tunneled and the tears of sadness morphed into white-hot anger. "This is entirely your fault! I almost lost my son. I almost lost my life. All because of you, you cold-hearted, pathetic excuse of a wizard!" Narcissa stood slowly from the floor, her anger growing with each word.

Lucius reared his hand back to strike, but paused, choosing to unsheathe his wand instead. He calmly replied, "You reek of animal you lay with and therefore, serve me no further purpose. Goodbye,  _wife_!" he snarled sarcastically.

Did Lucius just imply that she was sleeping with Remus? That she would so easily dishonor her marriage vows, despite her strong pull towards Remus? Her shock at the implication wore off and she blocked his spell not a moment too soon. She gasped, "How dare you!" She traded spells with her husband, her anger spilling over into her curses, but the duel would not last long.

Remus, no longer entangled in his previous duel, turned his attention to Lucius and threw the man down with a powerful curse. But not before Lucius shot a final hex aimed at Narcissa.

The aim was off due to his being hit, and it lodged into the ceiling just above her head.

"Narcissa!" Remus screamed, raising his wand to stop the falling stone, but gravity was quick.

Narcissa could only watch as the crushing stone fell towards her. Her world was covered in darkness as a weight fell on top of her. But it was not the life-ending weight of unrepentant stone. A person, breathing ragged, lay on top of her and she struggled to peer through the cracks of light. The person shifted and an arm suddenly pulled her to a standing position.

It took Narcissa one second to look at the pile of rocks that would have ended her life and two seconds more to gape at her rescuer. Staring back at her was the distantly familiar face of Andromeda's daughter, Nymphadora.

Tonks rested her hands on her knees, out of breath from running across the hall. "Would have been a nasty bump on the head, I reckon," she indicated to the pile of rubble a few feet away. Narcissa could only nod dumbly. "I don't believe we've met. Everyone calls me Tonks," she replied easily enough.

"I thought your name was — "

The witch's hair turned a piercing shade of red. " _Tonks_ ," she stressed, extending her hand. "Nice to meet you, Aunt Narcissa." There was a tone underlying her niece's words, but there was no time to dwell on it now.

Narcissa only nodded and shook the witch's pre-offered hand. There was no further conversation as Remus approached them both. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Narcissa nodded, still shaken at how close she had come to death, and at her own husband's hand no less. "Fine," she clipped and Remus raised a brow. He wisely decided not to push the topic any further.

"Charlie Weasley and I have been engaging them as they come in," Tonks informed them. "But we're surrounded on both sides. They're coming from the Village  **and**  within the castle." Tonks led them towards a frontline the small band of Aurors had established.

"We know. The rest of the Order is on their way. This may be all we see tonight. Voldemort would not risk too many lost soldiers," Remus replied as he pulled Narcissa behind him. Together, the three joined a tall red-head, Charlie Weasley, Narcissa presumed. He came up to Tonks' side and quickly relayed where reinforcements were needed.

Then, Remus squared off in a battle against the Death Eater Yaxley. Narcissa recognized him immediately. There were no more conversations from there, only the shouts of hexes and curses as brilliant colors of light raced across the ancient.

* * *

Fenrir Greyback and his werewolves hastily made their way towards Hogwarts' Great Hall eager to take part in the attack on Hogwarts. Tonight was the night Dumbledore got what was coming to him. According to Dark Lord's plan, the Malfoy brat was supposed to have let his group in, but when the time came for them to enter through the repaired vanishing cabinet, the young Malfoy was nowhere to be found. The small group of Death Eaters and werewolves found themselves alone in the Room of Hidden Things.

No matter, Fenrir followed behind Bellatrix's shrill calls and cackles as she made her way to the Astronomy Tower. Severus Snape followed dutifully behind her. His group was to remain on the first floor, patrolling for anyone who would dare interfere.

Blood would be spilled this night.

He could smell the fresh blood of the young that slept within the ancient halls; he had to restrain himself from going on the hunt. The Dark Lord had promised his fill of young witches and wizards to turn when he began his new world order, but for now, he had to wait.

Two of his pack members he had personally turned, paced behind him, eager to get on with the night's activities. Ten years ago, Kaley Nightingale and Russell Ballard were only fifteen and sixteen when Fenrir turned them, but it did the job. Ostracized from their families, they willingly joined his pack and his rank grew. He had been steadily growing his numbers when a shaky truce with the newly-resurrected Voldemort commenced.

He halted his march down the corridor and ordered the two behind him as he lifted his nose in the air and inhaled. He pulled up short as he came face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, still pale and arrogant as ever, standing alone in the dark corridor.

So now the Malfoy prince decided to show himself. "Young Malfoy," Fenrir spoke through sharp teeth. "Wonderful of you to join us this evening."

"I'm not here to join you, Greyback," the pup sneered.

Fenrir cocked his head in question. "No? Peculiar. The Dark Lord will be interested in why you decided to disappear. He'll reward me handsomely for bringing you in."

"Not happening," the young Malfoy muttered darkly, one shoulder rolling in irritation.

"So, you're going to stop me by yourself, then?" Fenrir rolled his own shoulders and signaled to Nightingale and Ballard.

"No," came another voice from around the corner. Decidedly male and not Malfoy's.

"We are," a female voice joined the first.

How fortuitous! The Boy-Who-Lived and his Mudblood bitch decided to offer themselves as a gift to the Dark Lord, as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger moved to stand beside the Malfoy heir. Well, if they were willing to offer, who was he not to take?

Just as he was about to lower himself to the ground and charge, he paused as a red aura simmered and moved to encompass the three teens. It grew and hummed with power as they neared each other and blocked his path to the main corridor.

The three stood before him. He could not smell their fear at all. Usually, witches and wizards cowered in fear before his pack, but no such emotion radiated from them. He seethed in anger but quickly wrote it off.

Fenrir clucked his tongue, amused. "We'll see about that." Through the pull of his rank as Alpha, he summoned his pack to attack. Both Nightingale and Ballard transformed into wolves before him.

With a sideways glance to Potter, who sharply nodded in reply, Malfoy and the Granger girl simultaneously dropped to their knees and transformed into their true forms.

Fenrir pulled back in shock at the power that vibrated against the stone walls as the trio shifted. A gold, silver, and black wolf stood in their place, as they dropped into defensive positions.

Fenrir sneered in disdain at the reveal.

"Ah, an  _ame de loups_. Why, of course," Fenrir growled and bared his teeth. "Never thought I'd see the day where a true soul bonding would be achieved in my lifetime. Nonetheless, with three." He shrugged. "Still, you're no match for my pack, young ones, and after the Dark Lord eviscerates your side, I'll take your bitch for my own." He threw his head at the pretty, golden wolf with large, amber eyes. Yes, a  _Lupa_ would fit nicely within his pack, even though Nightingale had been recently petitioning for the position. He could feel from here that the golden wolf across from him was a true  _Lupa._ His cock hardened at the thought of rutting against her.

She would be  _his_.

The black wolf growled and bared his teeth, while the silver wolf stepped in front of the golden wolf in like manner. Power radiated off the pair of them as protective instincts went into overdrive.

Fenrir laughed and right before he shifted, he snarled, " 'Ave it your way, then." He commanded his pack to wait while he shifted and took point. His adrenaline was fueled by the scent of a  _Lupa_  in heat. Her thick arousal filled his nostrils as Ballard, next to him, howl in delight and anticipation.

_Foolish of you to let your bitch out now. She'll be pregnant with my pups before the night is out_ , Fenrir telepathically snarled to the trio.

_Please!_  Granger spat at him in disgust.

_Fuck you_ , Malfoy gave in quick reply.

_Over my dead body_ , Potter answered in kind as all three quickly dashed down the hallway to meet Fenrir and his wolves in battle. The  _ame de loups_  compelled them to protect their mate, their bond, and the Wizarding World.

The quickest of the three, Harry tore into Fenrir with a plunging leap. Not a moment behind, Draco settled his sharp teeth into Ballard's neck. A pained howl emitted from the wolf Ballard and he immediately dislodged Draco into a suit of armor guarding the hallway, the heavy metal collapsing under his weight. Hermione and Nightingale faced off, teeth bared and tempers flaring as both sought to defend their respective packs.

Fenrir was a larger wolf than Harry, but what the younger wizard lacked in size, he made up with speed. His lithe form allowed him to be nimble and quick, and he bit at Fenrir's legs while the older wolf tried to tackle Harry to the ground. And while Fenrir succeeded once, pure grit and determination brought Harry back to his feet. He threw his anger and betrayal at the night's revelations into the fight and it pushed him onwards.

The gnashing of teeth sliced through fur as blood permeated the air and splattered across the floor while Hermione's pack battled against Fenrir's. They were not merciful, and they did not give quarter. Fenrir and his two wolves were battled-tested, but Hermione and her mates were faster.

Blood, deep and crimson, ran down the jawline of Hermione's snout and all she could see was her mates. All she could think about was protecting what was hers and destroying any threats to the ones she loved. Voldemort, Dumbledore, Fenrir: they were all the same and she did not distinguish between them as she fought.

Fenrir gave a great yowl as Harry rolled swiftly causing the larger wolf to roll with him. The advantage his, Harry went for his neck.

_Potter, on your left_! Draco screamed and Harry looked up from the kill strike he was about to deal to Fenrir.

Harry did not have time focus on the threat, his concentration diverted, and a wolf he did not recognize barreled into him. The force knocked Harry from Fenrir and the two tumbled away.

_Did you think I would not come with reinforcements?_  Fenrir chuckled darkly as one of his pack engaged Harry on behalf of his Alpha.

Hermione quickly took inventory. Her own were faring alright for the moment; she had easily toppled and maimed the wolf Nightingale, while Draco seemed evenly matched with Ballard. Their collective strength had waned, but their conviction kept them afoot. Hermione opened the link between them and willingly shared what magical reserves she had with her mates. It boosted their energy for time being, but it would not last the night.

She knew if Fenrir had reinforcements elsewhere about the castle, it was only a matter of time before they showed up to partake in the fight. Hermione sent a quick call to Blaise, who answered immediately, while she assessed another wolf in front of her.

The wolf looked young, there was no other way to describe it. He had an apprehensive look in his yellow eyes, but she knew not to mistake it for weakness. The young soldier would die for his Alpha if Fenrir ordered it so, and she sneered. Some Alpha Fenrir was; he was delighted to step back from the fray and let his own die for him.

Hermione would rather die first than watch Harry or Draco die for her.

_Too scared to face us on your own?! Coward!_  Hermione spat, her disgust palpable for all to hear in the crowded corridor. The pawn wolf in front of her growled in warning as he blocked their access to Fenrir.

_How dare you!_ Fenrir snarled as he stalked back and forth in the small hallway. _We've been ordered to bring the traitor and the Boy Wonder in alive, but I think the Dark Lord will have to settle for a mangled corpse instead_ … Fenrir licked his lips.

Before Fenrir could finish the sentence, a long black wolf with a tan stripe jumped from the shadows. Blaise knocked the sentinel before her to the ground, his teeth anxious and ready to protect his  _Lupa_. Hermione let him tear the pawn down, while she advanced on Fenrir.

_I've had enough of your threats, Fenrir_. Hermione began to slowly advance on Fenrir, her canines bared. Something dark and animalistic blossomed within the seat of her as blood dripped from her maw.

_You think I'm scared because you possess the ame de loups?_  The matted fur on Fenrir's neck began to rise with his swelling rage.  _You, some sniveling bitch who know nothing of my kind! Did you think you could just come forward and all would bow before you? You don't deserve a blessing from the Gods; you know less about being a true Lupa than a June bug beneath my feet. And if I want to take you for my own,_ _ **then I will!**_ _And there is nothing_  — Fenrir suddenly dropped back into a defensive stance, his speech cut off as he found himself on guard from yet again.

Hermione knew Fenrir was trying to get under her skin and stall for time, so reinforcements could arrive, but she could wait no longer. Something within her snapped at the thought of Fenrir forcibly taking Harry and Draco from her. Not while there was still breath in her lungs, and not while there was still magic coursing through his veins.

The Mother of Werewolves' words from all those nights ago came back to her. Maybe Fenrir was right? The ame _de_ loups was for werewolves, and while she was not one, still, the magic had chosen her. Who was she not to use it? Anger, hurt, and betrayal from the night's revelations manifested squarely on Fenrir's wolf form.

Was it fair? Was it justified? Hermione thought so.

The forward momentum threw them onto the ground and Fenrir found himself on his back trying to protect his exposed belly from Hermione's sharpened teeth. Hermione opened the mental door between woman and wolf. It was the door that kept one from killing just because you could and separated morality from the instinct to live as she let her wolf take the lead. Somewhere, she knew the Mother of Werewolves was smiling proudly.

Not all of her attacks landed, but what did, drenched her mouth in blood. Hermione basked in the howl of pain Fenrir gave at one bite to the underside of his front leg.

Suddenly spellfire hit the stone floor to her left and Hermione froze midway in the attack, deep crimson staining her fur. Tracing the line of sight, she saw a line of Death Eaters quickly making their way down the dark corridor, their wands raised and prepared to attack.

Hermione ordered her pack to fall back. Even with the late arrivals of Luna and Daphne, they were woefully outmatched.

_Down the stairs, we'll lose them in the corridors!_  Hermione ordered as she doubled back, leaving a bloodied Fenrir on the ground. From her peripheral, she saw Draco throw Ballard to the ground, red gashes lining his silver fur. But now was not the time check for injury.

_Blaise! Take the rear!_  Hermione ordered as jets of light hits the walls above their heads. Fenrir's wolves would not be following them, Hermione thought with grim satisfaction as the Death Eaters walked over Fenrir and his pack's broken and bloodied forms.

Blaise and the girls ran behind them and together, the pack raced through the halls of Hogwarts. For once, the castle did not feel like home. Its walls still held memories of happier times, of camaraderie and friendship, but Hermione could not help but look upon the ancient walls with a new light. Everything she had thought to be true was a lie, and she ran harder despite her body's weary protests, seeking to escape the thoughts that sat ready to drown her.

She focused on her priority: getting their pack to safety. Dumbledore, Voldemort, the Order be damned. Six pairs of paws silently raced over the pavement and they moved like shadows in the dark of night. Hermione motioned them into an empty classroom, away from the shouts and screams of battle. Once they were safely inside, she shifted back into her human form. The others followed in like manner.

Hermione winced as she cataloged their wounds, ignoring the blood running down her own arm and side. Harry cradled an arm close to his chest, a deep gash just over his left eyebrow. Draco held his wand in one hand, healing what he could of his wounds. When Draco moved to heal her arm, Hermione noticed the slice across Draco's back; an almost red-black stain spread across the fabric of his pullover. Luna was a little roughed up, but well enough to heal a long cut down Daphne's arm while Blaise looked on, in no rush to heal the blood running above his ear. Harry was in no great shape, either. His side hurt and he took great pains not to move it. His eyes were uncharacteristically blank.

She knew Fenrir had opened a few wounds on her left arm, but she would worry about it later. Mirrored concern flew over from Harry and Draco as they came to stand beside her; they could feel that just standing there was becoming a challenge for her.

Hermione took out her wand and the resulting warmth from her healing spell was enough to bring them back from the edge of darkness. She tried to smile, but it did not reach her eyes. Draco did not smile. She felt Harry's anger and saw the hurt swirling behind the green depths of his eyes and she understood.

Draco placed an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him closer, the movement awkward with their combined pain. Harry allowed himself to be pulled in and Hermione joined their awkward hug as the need for physical contact with her mates was too great to deny.

"Hogwarts is no longer safe," Harry whispered. Disbelief made it hard to grasp the reality staring them in the face as they broke from the embrace.

Blaise gingerly rubbed a sore spot at his temple. "I believe we have gathered that much."

"No, he means all of it. Not just the physical location: Dumbledore, the Order, who knows how far this goes," Hermione supplied for Harry.

"What are you talking about?" Daphne questioned, confusion filling the blue eyes behind her glasses.

"It never was," Draco remarked sourly, standing protectively in front of Harry. He spat the next words. "Dumbledore's played us all for the fools. This entire fucking time, he's been working for  _him_."

Wide pairs of eyes met cool greys. "Dumbledore? I never foresaw this," Luna whispered sadly.

"No one could have seen this coming," Hermione answered to the group. "He fooled us all."

"Wait. You mean to tell me, Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and leader of the Light, has been working for the Dark Lord the entire time?! And you're just finding out about this now?!" Blaise asked, disbelieving brown eyes meeting cool jade. "I thought Dumbledore favored you, Potter. It's always been clear to the rest of us, he has all these years. And yet, you never suspected  _anything_?"

"Apparently Dumbledore's had an agenda all these years." Harry's jaw worked to form the next part as if speaking them aloud made it true. He absently ran a hand through disarrayed hair. "From our meeting earlier, I got the impression that Voldemort isn't really the one in charge. He thinks he is because Dumbledore allows him to, but he  _is_  up to something. Something big. And while Voldemort has his own vendetta against me for personal reasons, Dumbledore wants me alive." Harry rubbed a hand over his face.

"Dumbledore offered Potter power and protection if he joined him," Draco spat sourly. "Fuck the old man," he gave back to Harry, sensing his mate's unease.

"Harry refused," Hermione offered amid the mounting anxiety building in the room.

Daphne shook her head, dumbstruck. "Who else knows about this?"

Blaise harrumphed. "Obviously no one, or else this would have circled the Earth twice by now."

"It certainly puts you in a tough spot now, Harry." All eyes turned to Luna who had been observing the scene quietly. "You can either join him, which doesn't sound like an option." Harry shook his head in agreement. "Or tell the others, and honestly, who would believe you? Or us?" She indicated to her pack.

"Harry has only ever told the truth! Why should they not believe him now?" Hermione accused, upset.

"And did they believe him then?" Luna gave back. "Even then, he had Dumbledore's backing on his side." She turned towards Harry. "Without it, you're like the little boy who cried wolf," she grinned suddenly. "Sorry for the play on words," she sobered quickly. "But right now, only Voldemort, Dumbledore and we know the truth. Who knows if there are others?"

"And if you can't trust Dumbledore, who else is left? The Order?" Daphne put forth, an eyebrow raised. "You'll hardly convince the Dark that Professor Dumbledore has been aiding the Dark Lord all this time. Good luck convincing the Light."

"Harry, she's right," Hermione agreed. Turning to Harry, she continued, "You know loyalties in the Order run deep. This isn't the kind of thing you shout from the rooftops."

"Imagine the consequences for dragging their beloved leader in the mud. Being the boy-who-lived won't save you a lick," Draco added.

Harry's shoulders dropped and he shifted on his feet, uncomfortable. "Then what do you suggest?" He winced as threw his injured arm towards the door. "Our friends are out there fighting for a side… a cause… that is practically a lie and you want me to just sit by and be quiet about it an watch while they die?"

Luna shook her head. "That's not what we meant."

"Tact is needed, Potter." Draco looked over Harry's shoulder to Hermione behind them. "Granger agrees with me. Until we have this figured out completely, our next steps need to be measured."

Harry read Draco's thoughts before the blond could even finish. "You want me to hide?" he asked suspiciously. "I won't cower … from either one of them! If they want me, they can come and find me."

"We barely escaped just an hour ago!" Hermione tried to make Harry see reason. "Do you want to go up against that again? It's not just any wizard, Harry, but Dumbledore! You're injured and we need rest; it would do us no good to die tonight."

_Look at them, Harry. Blaise and the others need rest._  Hermione silently tipped her head towards the other trio.

_But where will we go?_ Harry turned to Hermione _. And Ron and the others, they need to know!_

Hermione pleaded with Draco and Harry telepathically.  _We need to be careful who we tell. What if they already know? What if they don't believe you? Some people will be loyal to Dumbledore no matter what you say or how convincingly you say it. Show them the memory in Pensieve and I guarantee someone will still doubt us. We can't just rush up to things saying the absolute worst. That what they believed for most of their lives has been a lie. I know I wouldn't._

Harry pursed his lips and nodded tersely. Once more running a hand through his hair, he was grateful he had others he could rely on.

"Right, we should get out of the castle first," Hermione began as they came to an agreement. "It still sounds heavy out there. Fenrir and his wolves might be close. Be on your guard for another attack if need be." Hermione walked towards the classroom door, her wand tight in her bloodied hand.

She opened the door slowly and while she checked the left, Blaise and Daphne checked her right. A comforting smell tickled the inside of her nose and she took off running down the hallway before she could utter the name, "Remus…"

Harry and Draco quickly followed behind her as they raced down the hall and approached the corner. Her pack slid to a halt behind her and she almost lost her balance as Draco and Harry collided against her back. Remus and Narcissa clung to one another, Remus supporting their combined weight on the wall. That Remus did not lift his wand in anticipation told Hermione that he knew who was approaching.

A ghost of a smirk on Remus' lips told Hermione she had guessed right. "Thank God, you are alright," Remus murmured, closing his eyes briefly. Draco embraced his mother tightly, worried over her disheveled appearance, but she did not seem too worse for wear as she reassured Draco she was alright.

"We had a bit of a run-in with Fenrir Greyback, but we managed to escape." Harry helped his former Professor to his feet as they quickly walked away from the open hallway.

"More than a run-in I would say," Remus remarked dryly, as he favored one leg. But Remus ignored their concern as he continued, "I saw members of his pack dragging a half-conscious Greyback through the Entrance Hall a few moments ago." It was then that Remus took in the newest members of Hermione's growing group, trailing silently behind him. "You've been busy, Hermione," he quipped lightly.

"There's a lot more you should know," she replied despondently as she walked beside her former Professor. Making up her mind, Hermione decided that she would trust Remus. While she knew she should be wary of telling members of the Order what they had learned, for instinctual reasons, she knew she could trust Remus Lupin. Perhaps it was the werewolf blood they now shared, but she knew that Remus would not betray pack.

Remus' eyes darkened at her sad admission and he halted their walk. "Later. When we are alone. You must leave." He looked to the determined group of teenagers behind him. "All of you. I gather Fenrir knows you three possess the  _ame de loups_?" At their nod of admission, he continued, "Then he will report it to Voldemort. He will be searching for all three of you relentlessly now."

The trio shared a worried glance.

Shit. Simultaneously, the same thought crossed their minds. Hermione could see it the moment their eyes locked in contact with hers. If Voldemort knew, then it meant Dumbledore would soon know. It was only a matter of time. "But that's the thing," Hermione interrupted. "We have nowhere to go. We can't go to the Burrow, Headquarters is destroyed…" In fact, they couldn't go anywhere Dumbledore knew about. Such a list was practically non-existent.

"Narcissa," Remus called. At her name being called, Narcissa stepped forth and Hermione wondered when the two of them had become so at ease with one another. The last she saw of Narcissa Malfoy, she was being carted off in Remus' arms half-dead at Christmas. The same woman before her stood, healthier than she had ever seen her. She still held herself with an air of confidence that only a Malfoy could pull off, but she seemed … different.

She regarded Hermione with a small nod of the head and that had her eyebrows raising skyward.

"Narcissa, take them back to the house. As it stands, they cannot get past the wards, but I arranged it so the wards would recognize your magical signature. Let them through and tell no one they are there," he instructed.

Narcissa did not argue, but instead posed the question, "What about you?"

"I'm going to find Kingsley and the others. The Death Eaters have lost the element of surprise and now that the Ministry is on its way, they will be in retreat."

"But, there is something you must know!" Hermione implored, grabbing the outside of Remus cloak. Hermione did not miss the quick glance Narcissa threw her way, but she did not have time for pack dynamics and pushed the look aside.

"It will have to wait until I return," Remus addressed Hermione, gently removing her hand. "But you all must leave, now," he stressed. Then, he turned towards Narcissa's worried gaze. "Do not worry. I will return to you soon." With a soft caress of knuckles across her cheek, Remus backed away, ready to take off in the opposite direction. "Away. All of you," he bid them once more.

Narcissa and Remus shared a look before she tugged on Draco's hand and led the small group out of the castle. Soon they found themselves exiting Hogwarts' grounds through the secret passage in the Whomping Willow. Narcissa remained quiet, not even answering her son's questions about where they were heading. Once they reached the Apparition point outside of Hogsmeade, its villagers too enraptured with the surprise battle to notice their movements, Narcissa instructed them to join hands. She would Apparate them in groups of three.

"Blaise, Luna, and Daphne first," Hermione spoke quietly. Narcissa nodded in acceptance and took ahold of Blaise in one hand and Luna in her other. Daphne joined hands with Blaise. In a pop, they were gone from their sight.

The  _ame de loups_  turned towards Hogsmeade and Hogwarts in the distance. The castle had once been the only place they viewed as home. A safety net that could have never been penetrated. Now they had learned that evil had never been far. It waited and watched from close and afar. It pretended to be an ally, a friend, and a mentor.

Harry felt cheated and betrayed. Souring, blackness drew about his eyes. Pure anger heated the Rune of Power heat beneath his palm.

The temperature dipped as Draco tightened his fists as droplets of ice materialized on the grass around them. The Rune of Courage practically bled with his rage.

Between them, Hermione stood and channeled their anger. She had defended Dumbledore once. She had believed in him, but that was all a lie. People had  _died_  for Albus Dumbledore and he just allowed it to happen. All so a deranged wizard could paint the world the way he saw fit. What a bloody ruse.

Again, her errant curls began to crackle with the beginnings of magic as ice, water, and fire began to encroach over her arms and up her middle. Hermione slowly lifted her palm, itching with unused magic, up to her line of sight. The heat pulsing beneath her skin tickled her nose as the Rune of Wisdom glowed with power.

Carefully, she spoke to her mates, "If want Remus said is true. That Fenrir knows, and by extension, Voldemort and Dumbledore will soon know … then it's time." She looked first to Harry. Harry who had lost his parents to a lie. Then she looked at Draco, who lost his innocence and had been tortured within his own home. "I think it's time we show them why  _we_  were chosen instead of them." Blinking back tears, Hermione threw back her head and let forth a pain-filled howl at the moon hidden behind clouds of spellfire. She pushed all the heat that had been gathering in her chest into the air. Squeezing her eyes shut, she could hear Harry and Draco join in beside her.

When she opened eyes to take in the sight before her, she noticed Narcissa had returned. Her pale blue eyes were bright as she blinked at the three of them with misplaced awe. Looking to her left and his right, Hermione noted Draco's and Harry's eyes had shifted to their supernatural kaleidoscopes, a beautiful color of silver snow and forest greens. She gathered her eyes had changed as well. It did not matter. She would not hide any longer.

As Narcissa took ahold of their hands, preparing to Apparate them away, Hermione's sensitive hearing caught the reply of animals and creatures alike, near and far, hidden within the cover of the Forbidden Forest. They had heard her anguished cry and answered in kind.

They howled well after Narcissa had Apparated them back to Cardiff.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

The animals baying in the distance made it difficult to concentrate. It was unusual for so many to be howling in unison so late into the night. Albus Dumbledore wondered what had stirred their attention. The attack had lost its element of surprise and now that Harry Potter had escaped, the Death Eaters would soon be in retreat. Again, he stared into the vast realm of the Forbidden Forest as the howling did not cease. A sense of foreboding took ahold of him. He gathered a talk with Magorian, Lord of the Centaurs, was in order.

Dumbledore looked over his shoulder as movement stirred behind him. He could hear his protégé's gloating from his place by the railing. Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort approached, but he was not alone. Bellatrix Lestrange and Severus Snape stood behind him. Both wore similar masks of surprise as they watched the Dark Lord calmly approach the school's headmaster.

Voldemort twisted his wand in between his fingers. "I gather all did not go the way you planned, Albus." He looked about the tower and feigned surprise. "I do not see the boy."

"How very keen of you, Tom. No, Harry is not here," Dumbledore answered.

"You're lucky I arrived just as Bellatrix and the others were ascending the tower this evening. Imagine what a grave mistake we would have made." Voldemort gave a cruel smirk.

Dumbledore knew Voldemort told his followers that tonight's intended target was supposed to be him. Earlier, Dumbledore dismissed Severus' warnings that Voldemort wouldn't be so brash to attack the school, but that too had been a part of the ruse. He couldn't very well let Severus know that he knew what going to happen at the time. But eventually, the cat would be let out of the bag and by the myriad of expressions subtlety flying over the younger man's face, Dumbledore knew Severus had quickly put the pieces together. For now, he ignored the younger wizard's accusing gaze.

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied. "I gather you know the Ministry will be here shortly." That was code for his mentee to make haste if he wanted to see the next morning as a free man.

"My followers will hold them off long enough for me to escape. I'm sure your penchant with Ministry officers can assist in those regards as well."

It was too easy to read between the lines. Voldemort meant for him to stall the Aurors. "Then unless there is anything else…" Dumbledore purposefully let the sentence hang. His former student would not willingly show himself in front of his most trusted followers unless he had a point to make.

And predictably the dark wizard remained. "I heard the most interesting news from Fenrir tonight, Albus. It seems he had a run-in with the boy and some of his peers. Have you ever heard of the  _ame de loups_?" A cold smirk rested on Voldemort's lips.

Besides a quick narrowing of his eyes, Dumbledore did not give much away. "It sounds familiar. May I ask why you inquire about such magic?"

The smirk evolved into a feral grin. "Fenrir believes the boy to possess it. Actually, he, his Mudblood, and the young Malfoy share it, if you would believe the word of a werewolf."

"If it regards the  _ame de loups_ , then perhaps, I might."

Voldemort stepped closer. Red eyes narrowed to small slits as his thin lips quaked with desire. "I want it," he spoke softly. He leaned forward so the Death Eaters behind him could not hear the next words, for they were Dumbledore's ears alone. "You will secure me the Mudblood. Fenrir assured me she was the key. I don't care how or what it takes, Albus. I gave you a chance to do things your way. Now we will do things the way I see fit." With that, he stepped back from Dumbledore and motioned to his followers.

Within seconds they disApparated one by one, as the Apparition ban had been lifted by Dumbledore for their quick escape. Only a disillusioned Severus remained.

Dumbledore waited for the younger wizard to speak as he knew Severus was puzzling out exactly what he wanted to say. It was difficult to read his beady-eyed gaze, despite Dumbledore knowing the man for so long. It made him an impeccable spy.

"I guess I should say well-played, Albus, you had me fooled this entire time and I saw nothing. But tell me," Severus paused and his tone grew sinister. His controlled façade melted into a rarely seen vulnerability. "Did you know  _then_? Did you know that he was going to kill Lily even after I came to you, groveling for mercy?!" Tight hands gripped Severus' wand as he awaited his answer.

Dumbledore sighed as his shoulders dropped slightly. At times, it was so hard walking this double line. "No matter what explanation I give, it will not bring Lily back. Nothing will, Severus."

"It will matter to me!" Severus raised his wand to Dumbledore's throat, the threat clear in his eyes. "For years I have given you everything you've asked of me. I have done your bidding without second question only to have been played like a fiddle. Tell me you had no part in her death," he demanded through clenched teeth.

"Or you will what, Severus?" Dumbledore asked simply. He doubted the wizard would strike, however, what was the phrase Alastor frequented?  _Constant vigilance_. He knew if Severus saw a connection to Lily's death, then he may be forced to act in defense. "I would implore you to think through your actions carefully. The Ministry has not yet left the premises."

"You both care for nothing except yourselves," Severus spat, only angered by the refusal to answer. "As long as there is someone else to do your dirty work, someone else to take the blame. No, you will answer me this one question! Did you or did you not have anything to do with Lily Evan's murder?!"

"Voldemort would have pursued them regardless. Surely, you know this. I told him to leave the boy and his family alone, but he would not be persuaded. The Potters were most unwise in choosing Pettigrew to be their secret keeper."

"But you knew of his intent and were content to play along, indifferent to it all. You could have done more!" Severus accused, his wand unwavering.

"In the end, it would have mattered not, Severus. In the end, Lilly still would have died, by his hand or someone else's."

Severus' arm wavered. "How many?" he paused, disgust lined thickly along his throat. "How many have died for you thinking they served a higher cause, for a greater good in name only?"

Dumbledore sighed. "What is the saying, Severus? 'A means to an end'?"

"Which I will be no longer!" Severus muttered darkly, firing the death curse, his devotion for the deceased Muggle-born witch lighting his fathomless eyes.

Dumbledore easily threw off the curse and circled around Severus. "Are you sure you want to do this, Severus? You came to me almost seventeen years ago swearing loyalty and I would hold you still to that promise." He blocked two jets of light in quick succession.

"I promised loyalty to a cause you falsely upheld. I hold loyalty to you no more than I do to that madman." Severus squared off against his headmaster. The younger wizard was powerful and threw many curses at his once-mentor and friend. But Dumbledore had been down this road before. He had strength and reserve where Severus did not and in the enclosed space of the Astronomy Tower, he beat Severus back along the railing.

The younger wizard was breathing harshly from exertion as he stumbled to his knees. With a quick flick of his wrist, Dumbledore had Severus' wand in his free hand. Beaded black eyes stared up into tired, old blues.

"Will you kill me too, Albus?" Severus laughed cruelly. "It does not matter; I have nothing left to live for.  _You_  have taken all of it."

Both turned towards the inner door as the sounds of rushing footsteps drew close.

Albus turned back to Severus and whispered softly, "I'm afraid this is goodbye." And with a non-verbal spell, Dumbledore quickly executed his curse. But inside of the expected jet of deadly green, another spell hit Severus directly between the eyes.

The man fell forward on his hands, surprised he was still alive, as he gasped loudly in shock. Dumbledore dropped Severus' wand in front of him.

"Is this area secure?" An Auror shouted at Dumbledore. He did not recognize the Ministry official, but he did recognize Nymphadora Tonks and Charlie Weasley behind the large wizard.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, it is. I'm afraid, however, that during the battle Severus was hit with a powerful curse."

Severus at his feet began to crawl around on the floor, feeling with his hands as if he was searching for something. His mouth moved, but only coughs and sputters came forth.

"Does he require medical attention?" Tonks asked, concerned.

"Take him to Poppy if you can," Dumbledore ordered, sitting down to rest on railings, feigning weariness. "I can't see any physical injury, but she will be able to give a better diagnosis than I."

Tonks took one arm and Charlie took the other. Together, they lifted the man off the ground. Surprised at the contact, Severus struggled against them.

"Professor Snape, you're alright. We're taking you to Madam Pomfrey," Tonks tried to reassure the wizard, but he continued to struggle. "Professor, do you know what you were hit with?"

But Severus gave no answer and only struggled harder as he choked on garbled half-sounds. He moaned so pathetically, that Charlie had to stun him into unconsciousness. Tonks frowned deeply and lifted their charge from the ground, ready to lead him away to the busy Hospital Wing.

Once they were out of sight, Dumbledore stood from the railing and sighed in pity. "Goodbye, Severus." In a blink, he disApparated from the Tower.

* * *

With a thunderous crack, Harry's feet landed at the bottom of a grassy field, his hands still intertwined with Narcissa and Hermione's. The first thing he did after landing was to drop to his knees and slam his fist into the earth. The night's revelations had simply been too much to absorb.

"Hurry into the house," Narcissa's voice floated overhead. "I'll join you after I reset the wards."

"Mother, do you think it's safe for you to remain out here alone?" Draco asked.

"I'll be fine. Now go. I'll reset the wards, then I'll be right behind you."

Hermione's voice sounded somewhere above Harry. "Do you mind if I add some enchantments of my own?"

"Of course," Narcissa answered after a moment of hesitation.

An arm wrapped under Harry's shoulders and he was lifted up and towards the house. "Don't go all soft on me now, Potter," Draco ribbed lightly as he carried his mate up the slight incline. The path was worn and long, but they could see a weathered house sitting at the end of the dirt path.

Harry wiped his face on his sleeve, as he tried to wipe away the misery. "Wanker," he replied under his breath, but the playful jib did its job. Harry sobered as they approached the front porch. The World War II-era house sat perfectly atop a hill, a simple relic from a simpler time.

Daphne pushed open the screen door, partly off its hinges, as they approached. She jumped back in surprise as she took in their supernatural eyes. She had Hermione's eyes before, but she had never seen his nor Draco's. Harry imagined it would take a while for all their combined shock to wear off.

Daphne gestured towards the interior of the house and the stairway towards the back. "There are two rooms upstairs and one behind the kitchen. There isn't much to choose from. Blaise has claimed the room on this floor. "

"Thanks, Daphne," Harry responded with a tight smile. "We'll take one upstairs."

There were only three small bedrooms in the house which meant a conversation would be forthcoming. Someone or someones would be forced to share a room. Harry didn't know if they were staying permanently or what, but he would deal with that issue later. It had been a long night and he wanted nothing more than to lay down somewhere. It was well and truly past midnight now.

As Draco and Harry reached the second landing, they noticed the narrow hallway led to three doors. Presumably two were bedrooms and the other, a water closet. One bedroom was already occupied, either by Remus or Narcissa, Harry didn't know, but the second bedroom was empty. Draco and Harry entered the empty bedroom.

"Do you think Lupin will be back tonight?" Draco asked. Harry couldn't tell if the blond was concerned for their old professor or just trying to make conversation.

"I'm sure he will … eventually," Harry added as an afterthought. "I don't know when."

"We should have told him about Dumbledore."

Harry didn't mask the frustration in his voice. "Hermione tried. It wasn't exactly the best time. We had to get out of there. You saw him yourself; he was off before she could say a word."

"We're royally fucked, Potter." Draco sat on the bed beside Harry. "Not one, but two powerful wizards to go up against." Harry watched Draco's eyes as he vocalized their predicament. Harry was almost hypnotized by the falling snow within the stormy, grey irises. Then he snorted at the thought of describing Draco's eyes as 'hypnotizing'. The blond would probably punch him if he knew.

"Don't even think about it, Potter," Draco warned beside him.

"It's true, you know." Harry pointed towards Draco's eyes, running with the light moment. It was much easier to deal with than the world crashing down around them. "It's like a scene from a storybook all bunched up in your eyes," Harry mocked, feeling very silly. The lack of sleep was getting to him. He mimed falling snow with his fingers. Draco swatted his hands away.

"It's entirely your fault, you know. Needed a spell to trust me … had to find a powerful spell," Draco mimicked their earlier conversation from last summer. It felt like a lifetime ago. Things were only black and white and sides were clearly defined. Harry knew who enemies were and who were allies. Then Draco showed up on his doorstep and his perfectly neat black and white world became a grey-muddled mess. Lines were forever blurred and nothing had been the same since.

"Well, it worked," Harry responded. "At least I know I can trust you and Hermione. Blaise, Luna, Daphne and Remus too, I guess." That was about it. Harry's sphere of allies was rapidly shrinking and the ones he held close he only wanted to hold closer.

"Glad you noticed," Draco quipped and lay back on the bed, a hand wearily rubbing his eyes. He lay motionless, his quiet breathing keeping Harry company.

Harry stared at the bedroom door, waiting for it to open and reveal his Lupa. Something in his chest ached and he knew it would not abate until Hermione joined them. Draco, too. Even as Draco pulled Harry down to the waiting mattress, Harry held off sleep. Only when she appeared, would he retire and put this awful night behind him.

* * *

Hermione and Narcissa worked in a silent partnership as they reset wards about the Howell property. Every so often, the witches would steal glances at the other, but other than the required incantations, no other words were spoken. When the wards had been properly set, they headed towards the house.

Luna greeted them at the door with cups of tea in hand. "It's an herbal blend," she explained as she handed one cup to Narcissa and the other to Hermione. Just behind Luna, Daphne sat on one of the couches with her own cup, too anxious to retire for the evening despite the clock informing them all it was three in the morning.

Hermione joined Daphne on the couch, grateful to sit for the moment. Her head buzzed with exhaustion and a strange sense of surreal-ness. It was as if she was just wandering through the motions. She would have pinched herself if she thought she could do it without anyone seeing her.

She looked up from the steaming mug to see everyone staring at her. Hermione knew her hair looked a fright from the battle, not that she cared one bit. But she still asked, a bit anxiously, "What?" to the group of women sitting around the small parlor room.

Narcissa cleared her throat, caught impolitely staring, but was Luna who answered. "It's your eyes. I imagine they find it a little disturbing is all. I find them enchanting myself. Ethereal, but mysterious. Gives you a certain kick you didn't have before," Luna explained.

"Er… thanks," Hermione answered. She swallowed and tried to avert her stare elsewhere, not wanting to cause further unease among the group, her pack. "It's a byproduct of the bond," she explained. "I've only seen it happen in times of heightened emotion or when one of us uses our magic, but it's never lasted this long before. I'm not sure what it means."

"Can you use a glamour charm?" Narcissa asked, delicately.

Hermione found it strange that she was talking to the mother of one of her mates, a woman who had once cursed her existence, but now sat around the group as if she belonged there. Hermione guessed Narcissa was in the same boat as them now. The fact that she hadn't returned to Voldemort after she had been healed spoke volumes. So much had changed. So many allegiances had shifted. Ones they thought were tried and true had proved false. Now, new ones had been forged from the likeliest of places. Still, it did not stop the initial wariness when Hermione tried to answer the Malfoy matriarch's question. Trust was still a long way off.

She kept the uncertainty out of her voice by reminding herself that it was  _she_  had bound Draco and Harry to her. Narcissa would do well to remember that. "I haven't tried. It doesn't affect my vision in the slightest, so I don't see why I would," she gave her answer, rather defensively.

"I imagine it would be hard to go out in public is all." The elder witch elegantly drank her tea.

Unable to help herself, she replied before she could think about it, "I'm sure you would know what that feels like now."

Narcissa eyebrows rose in shock at the younger witch's forwardness and very quickly, Hermione blushed. "I apologize. That was wrong of me. It's been a long night," she offered meekly and took another drink from her cup.

No one said anything to that as they continued to drink in silence. Luna must've put something in the tea because the more Hermione drank, the more relaxed and woozy she began to feel. Ever so slowly, her head became a burden on her neck.

Narcissa began to speak again as Hermione's head dipped to the side. Daphne was already nodding against the arm of the couch, her eyes slowly closing. "Well, it has been a long night." Narcissa set her cup down on the coffee table and the soft clink roused Daphne from her slumber. Even Luna jumped at the sound, alert at the slightest noise. "Come, I will get you girls some toiletries to take to your rooms. Go and get some sleep, I'm sure there will be much to talk about in the morning."

The three young witches, though desperate to stay on the couches, did not argue and filed out of the room to seek out the nearest mattress. Luna and Daphne quietly went into the room Blaise had claimed behind the kitchen, while Hermione headed for the stair, the insistent pull of her mates calling to her.

Before she headed up, Hermione turned heavy-lidded eyes back to Narcissa. "I am sorry for… for everything. I imagine it must be hard to leave everything you knew behind."

Narcissa gave a kind smile in return and placed towels and toiletries into the younger woman's hand. "I never got a chance to thank you for what you did. The evening Draco brought me to Grimmauld Place? Remus told me afterwards, but by then, you had returned to school. You kept me alive long enough for Remus to find me and for that, I thank you. Since it seems our lives will be intertwined for the foreseeable future, I hope we can learn to move past our differences. But I'm rambling and it's rather late. We'll talk in the morning… or later this morning," she amended.

Hermione bid the older witch goodnight and Narcissa watched as the young woman headed up the stairs. She waited until she heard the soft click of the door to assume that Hermione had found the room Draco, Harry and she were to share for their stay at Howell House. While she didn't approve of both sexes sharing a room, they were still teenagers after all, there were only three bedrooms. However, pack dynamics did not care for chastity and she chose to keep mum on the subject for the time being.

Besides if what Remus had told her was true and evidenced from Hermione's glowing eyes it was (they were quite beautiful and hard to turn away from), then her son and his mates had probably consummated their bond several times over by now. To keep her mind off her son sharing a bed with two others, she decided to help herself to more of Luna's tea and wait for her own wolf to return.

* * *

Even though it was the dead of night, the Burrow was alive with activity and full to the brim with Order members stuffed in chairs and makeshift seats. Each sported varying degrees of injury. Molly employed Ginny, who had returned home with Ron after the attack on Hogwarts had ceased, to help with mending the others. Warm mugs of cocoa and tea were passed around as the group tried to make sense of a brazen attack on a school they thought was impregnable.

Stories were recounted and after everyone was well and accounted for back at the Weasley home, the conversation turned to those who weren't in attendance.

"Where is Harry? Is he harmed?!" Molly Weasley asked, her hands knotted in her skirts. Others chimed in that they had not seen the Boy-Who-Lived since dinner that evening.

Remus tried to calm the din with soothing hand gestures. "I assure you Harry is safe for the time being. I ran into him, Draco, and Hermione in the castle. He wasn't gravelly injured and I'm sure after a good night's rest, he will be back to rights."

"Why didn't he come here? He's stayed with us before?" Ron asked clearly perplexed. "I mean, we're still mates."

Lupin could only answer with a sympathetic look. "In the confusion of the attack, I was only concerned with getting him, Hermione, and Draco away. I'll extend your invitation to stay at the Burrow. Although he may have other ideas."

"Why wouldn't Harry want to come back here?" Ginny asked the group, but other voices overrode her, their questions more pressing.

"Where is Dumbledore?" Arthur asked. "The Ministry heads had an initial meeting directly after the attack. They're talking about closing down the school again."

"Well, I would suppose so!" Molly hugged Ginny Weasley close to her chest. "Neither Ron nor Ginny will be going back there."

"Mum, I'm legal now. I can go back if I want to," Ron put forth timidly.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Molly answered.

"Where is Dumbledore?" Ted Tonks asked the question again. "Shouldn't he be here or something?"

Remus shook his head at a loss. "Charlie and Nymphadora spotted him with Severus on the Astronomy Tower a little past midnight, but they left for the Hospital wing. No one has seen Dumbledore since. Although with the confusion after the attack, I'm sure he has other things to attend to. I've spoken with Minvera, but she has her hands busy trying to secure the students and the school."

"Has something happen?" Kingsley asked, slight concern across his features.

"Severus has been blinded," Remus answered gravely. "It seems he's also deaf and mute." The room sputtered to silence as they absorbed the information. "No one knows how. Madame Pomfrey is looking him over, but it may be something for you to look into, Bill." Remus looked to Bill Weasley since he specialized in curses.

"I'll check into it in the morning," Bill agreed and Remus nodded his head.

"Do we even know what the Death Eaters were after?" Andromeda Tonks piped up from beside her husband.

"I cannot say. I can only tell you what I know now, and I do so only because I don't want you going into battle not knowing information the Dark will already know." The room fell into another silence as they held onto Remus' words. "We already know You-Know-Who is searching for Harry because of the prophecy that binds them, but I am afraid that not only his life, but the life of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are also in danger."

"Why?" Ron asked, curiosity and misgiving evident at the mention of Draco Malfoy's name. "I'm sure Malfoy's dad can spring him out of trouble."

"It is not that simple anymore. You are aware that Draco Malfoy came to the Order agreeing to spy for us in exchange for protection last fall. What you don't know is that Hermione performed a ritual to ensure that she and Harry could trust Mr. Malfoy. Not a simple ritual mind you, but a blood bond that is the strongest among my kind."

Arthur was the first to speak. "What are you saying, Remus?"

"Draco, Hermione, and Harry have not just bonded themselves, but their bond has been blessed by the Gods. It is difficult to explain unless you know werewolf history … they possess an extraordinary amount of power called the  _ame de loups_. I tell you now because Fenrir Greyback squared off with them tonight at Hogwarts." At Fenrir's name, the room stiffened; none more so than Bill. Tonks' face dropped into one of disgust. Grave faces soured at the mention of the werewolf. "Fenrir knows about the  _ame de loups_  and you can bet he will inform his master of this newest development. It's only fair that you should know as well."

"And how long have you known this, Remus?" Charlie Weasley asked, accusation hidden beneath the question.

"They tried very hard to conceal it during the school year, but I only became aware during the Christmas holidays," Remus replied in a steady tone, sensing where this was heading.

"And how long were you going to wait to tell us? I thought we shared everything with each other!" Molly nearly shrieked.

Remus' response was quick. "It was not my place to tell you! Hermione, as the one who performed the spell, holds a great deal of responsibility. After we lost Sirius last year and became aware of the prophecy, Harry holds an enormous amount as well. This new dynamic only compounds things. They needed space and time to figure out the bond for themselves. It would have done no good for us to criticize them even further. It would have led to disastrous results!"

Ron rose from his chair. "You mean to tell me Malfoy … is  _mated_ ," he spoke the word with distaste, "to Harry  _and_  Hermione?" Remus nodded solemnly and Ron's cheeks pinked. "Then how do we break it?" He looked squarely at Remus. "There has to be a way, right?" he grated.

"I'm sorry, there is nothing you nor I could do …"

But it would do no good, Ron was beyond hearing.

The pink tinting his cheeks quickly deepened to a hot puce as he tripped over emotions too strong to comprehend. "Harry and Hermione's … been hiding this from us since Christmas?! And now you're telling this is permanent. When the bloody  **hell**  were they going to let us know!?" Ron pointed to himself and Ginny, her face frozen in shock as she remained seated beside her brother, her legs too weak to stand. She stared distantly off to the side as Ron continued. "He's been distant all year, and we have to hear the reason from you?! Hermione couldn't even … this doesn't make any sense!" His voice broke off as he tried to reel it in. His brother Fred clapped a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his younger brother down, his trademark humor masked in the heavy moment.

Remus could see the hurt, anguish, and betrayal wrestling in Ron's eyes. It mirrored Ginny's as the other Weasleys gathered around their youngest. Faces varied from shock to disbelief to quiet acceptance as the Order absorbed this new piece of information. "They had a good reason not to tell any of you. I only know because I am like them and they could not hide their true selves from me … nor Fenrir." Remus switched back to leader-mode. Dumbledore had still not joined the group and decisions needed to be made. "Which is why you must understand how grave their situation is now. Not only could they possibly possess a power greater than You-Know-Who, he knows that and he will seek to eliminate them immediately."

"What do you mean, 'you are like them'?" Ginny asked from her seat. "They're werewolves?"

Remus regrettably shook his head in affirmation. "In the simplest of terms, yes. But the dynamics are hard to explain."

Ginny's eyes widened and Remus could see the tears begin to gather.

"So, give him Malfoy," Ron sourly put forth, crossing his arms across his broad chest. "The prick hasn't done the Order good all year. He and his mum probably led the Death Eaters into Headquarters after Christmas."

Remus shook his head. "I would advise against it. The  _ame de loups_  recognizes them as one soul now. If one of the three were to die, then the other two would perish soon after. It is a bond for life." Weighted silence once more blanketed the room.

Kingsley was the first to speak. "So, what do you propose we do now, Remus? I agree Harry should be protected at all costs and if that is to extend to Mr. Malfoy and Hermione, then I would have no problem with that."

Some nodded in agreement, while others remained quiet.

"Do you intend to send Harry back to those Muggles he lives with?" Arthur asked. "The Ministry will want to know where he is."

"I am not sure, but for the moment, they are safe." Remus glanced at Andromeda Tonks briefly. "Narcissa is with them, but until we know who has betrayed us, I'm afraid I cannot divulge their location."

Dissent suddenly broke out among them at the word 'betrayed' and Remus strained to yell over the voices. "I stand by what I said!" He reinforced rather loudly, a rarity for all who knew him. "There is a betrayer amongst our midst and I do not state that lightly. Draco reported that he had been given the task to fix the Vanishing cabinet at Hogwarts. Harry and Hermione can vouch that he did  _not_  fix it, but nonetheless, the cabinet was fixed. And tonight we witnessed the consequences. It is only with good fortune that there were no fatalities or more serious injuries. Who else could have known that was what You-Know-Who wanted? Who else close to You-Know-Who could have given Grimmauld's location away?"

"I told you, it was Narcissa Malfoy!" Ron shouted, tossing the accusation in the room again. "Mighty convenient she shows up and a day later we're under attack."

"I will vouch for my sister in her absence," Andromeda announced as she stood from her chair and squared off against Ron. "She had nothing to do with the attack on Grimmauld. I swear it." Normally soft-spoken and demurred, Andromeda straightened her shoulders and held her head high as she defended her long-lost sister, some of her Black confidence shining through.

Ron's features crumpled in suspicion. "How would you know?" he asked shrewdly. "She would have easily given you over to Death Eaters had the tables been turned," Ron accused.

"She is my flesh and blood!" Andromeda shouted back.

"So is Bellatrix LeStrange!" he argued.

Ginny spoke up, her earlier shock dispelled as she stood beside her brother. "But how do you know? How do we all know?" She looked around the room. "She has only been around a couple of months," she replied thoughtfully. Ron nodded curtly in agreement.

"Until we know for sure, maybe it isn't safe to leave her with Harry and Hermione, wherever they are," Molly Weasley put forth. A few heads bobbed in agreement. "Perhaps a Legilimens from the Ministry can confirm the truth for us. Whatever it may be."

Remus, who had been quiet during the whole exchange, could stand no more. "I will not have anyone tear through Narcissa's mind," he stated with deadly seriousness. His gaze pierced everyone from Molly to Ted Tonks as he vowed, "If you won't believe her own sister, then you will hear and believe me. Narcissa Malfoy is my intended; I have waited for her for too long. No one knows her heart truer than I, and I know she is not the traitor we seek." He let the statement marinate about the room, thick with silence. "Bring in a Legilimens if you want, but you will not subject mine to such an egregious breach of trust. You will have to get through me first." Remus briefly crossed gazes with Tonks, who stiffened, but said nothing in reply. Remus waited for anyone to push the subject again. He hoped he made his point.

"Fine," Ron spoke after tense moments. "But if something happens, don't call me for backup." He pushed through the gap between Charlie and Tonks. A few clanks could be heard as he ascended the stairs and a door slammed in the distance. Ginny left a few moments after.

Molly looked at Remus sternly. "I won't send my children into any more battles caused by your own doing, Remus." All but one of her children were of age and could do whatever they wanted, but Remus had a feeling they would have little say in what the Weasley matriarch demanded.

Remus nodded in understanding. "I wouldn't ask anyone to do something they weren't comfortable with." Remus spoke to them all, "I'm sorry this has caused dissension among us, but it is for the best."

"The best for who? For you?" Mundungus Fletcher asked from his spot in the corner.

Andromeda grabbed Ted's hand then. "We're leaving," she addressed and in a flurry of skirts, headed towards for the front door, preparing to Apparate away.

"If Dumbledore was here, he could provide guidance on what to do," Bill offered, trying to keep the peace. He tightened his hold around the petite Fleur Delacour.

"Do you see a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old wizard around?" George sarcastically asked his brother.

Remus knew he was no Dumbledore and perhaps the elder wizard would have handled it better than he, but the long night had them all on edge. Mistrust and the thoughts of traitors brought back old, nasty feelings and without a figurehead, they were splintered and falling apart at the seams.

Remus pushed through the others, the meeting clearly at an end, trying to catch up with Andromeda. He prayed she hadn't left yet.

"Remus, wait!" His name echoed within his ears and he turned to find Tonks approaching. She hesitated slightly, but bravely pushed on. "I want you to know… that I'm … I'm sorry for everything." She smiled ruefully. "If being with a werewolf has taught me anything, it's that I know how strongly you would feel towards your mate and clearly it wasn't me. I was hurt how everything happened at Christmas, but I understand," she offered sincerely.

Remus sighed. "I am sorry too, Dora. I never wanted to hurt you."

Her hair turned a vibrant shade of pink. "I know, but it's okay." She looked shyly over her shoulder at Charlie Weasley, who was speaking with his mother urgently. "But it's given me a chance to meet someone great. Someone who I am happy with."

Remus followed her line of sight and smiled softly. "I'm glad. You deserve to be happy."

Tonks stepped forward and gave her ex-boyfriend a tight hug. "So do you," she whispered and stepped back from the embrace. "Tell my mother I'll be home sometime tomorrow. A lot to do at the Ministry, you know."

"I will." He watched her walked back towards Charlie's side before heading towards the door. He was lucky to find Andromeda just outside. Apparently, she had been too distraught to Apparate as Ted sought to calm her down.

"—they won't even give her a chance! Did they not see her fighting on our side earlier tonight?! They don't even know what she has gone through and so quickly, they label her a traitor." Andromeda spotted Remus approaching and her yelling ceased as she threw her arms around him. "I am so glad she has you to defend her."

"She has us as well," Ted affirmed from beside his wife.

"It's a start," Remus agreed. "It will be an adjustment for all of us. They just need some time to sort it out. I'm sure they will come around."

"Do you really think there is a traitor among us?" Andromeda asked, wiping her tears away, peace temporarily replacing the anger.

Remus shoved his hands into his pockets. "I would bet my life on it. Who it is, remains to be seen."

"I may not have my werewolf lore right, but Dora would tell me when you were dating that you could 'sense out' others better than us. Is that true?" Ted ventured.

Remus hated being examined as if he were nothing more than a jumped-up dog on display, but he had years of practice hiding his true emotions in public. He knew Ted was only trying to understand what he did not know. "That's the jist of it," Remus bristled as he replied.

"Could you tell if the traitor was in the room among us?" Ted pressed. "I imagine they'd be lying through their teeth tonight, jittery that we know someone among us betrayed us to the Dark Lord."

Remus sighed. He had planned on sharing his revelations with Narcissa later tonight, and Harry as well. Remus suddenly realized he missed her and wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and hide in her moonlit hair. Just being separated from her for a few hours had been too long.

But Ted was waiting patiently and he figured he could trust Ted and Andromeda on this. "I was trying to 'sniff' out the traitor, as you put it," Remus reluctantly admitted. "I could not get a read on everyone, but I do not think the traitor was among us tonight. I don't want to excuse Ron and Ginny's accusation towards Narcissa; they were angry and hurt over my admission about the  _ame de loups_ , but they did not betray the Order."

Ted looked pensive. "No, it doesn't excuse their behavior. I guess it  _is_  a lot to take in."

Andromeda shook her head in agreement. "It has been a rough night, to say the least." Ted wrapped his arms around his wife's shoulders and Remus once more thought of the witch who was never far from his heart.

"Go home. I'll be in contact," Remus bade the pair. With quick goodbyes, they Apparated home and Remus was quick to follow. He was only too happy to be leaving the Burrow. He knew what awaited him back in Cardiff.

Daybreak was nearly upon Howell House the moment Remus carefully opened the door to his family home. The sight that greeted him made his heart stitch. The early morning grey haze streaked across the window and illuminated his mate's hair spread over the couch cushions as she dozed, curled in a ball, her hand tucked beneath her chin.

A cup of cold tea sat on the floor in front of her, obviously failing to keep her awake. Remus' heart warmed as he closed the door behind him. He kneeled in front of her, brushing the errant strands that fell over her face.  
The soft brush of his hand over her cheek had her blinking awake. "You're back," she sleepily stated, purring in contentment.

"I told you I would return."

Narcissa sat up and tried to smooth her wrinkled clothes. "I knew you would. I … I just…" How could she explain it? She had sat up waiting for him because she was worried? Because he meant something to her? Because without him by her side she felt like something important was missing? She struggled to push her feelings into a coherent thought. "I found myself surprised at how worried I was for you. The level of intensity frightened me a bit," she admitted.

"Is that so?"

Narcissa ducked her chin. "I find myself wary that whatever I may be feeling towards you is an effect of your mark upon me. That I wouldn't feel this way if you hadn't started this bond between us." She smirked. "It has caused more than one sleepless night of late if I'm perfectly honest. And then tonight…" She quieted for a moment, reliving the scene in her mind. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Some part of me was excited to see Lucius, and in a brief moment, I thought we would be … happy once more, like we used to be. I am still the same woman he attended school with, married, and had a family with, and it hurt to think that if he could no longer love me because of a change in my blood, then…" her voice dropped off, too shaky to continue.

"Then perhaps he never truly loved you at all?" Remus finished her thought kindly.

Hearing the words spoken aloud broke the dam. She pushed her hands to her eyes as the tears fell and she sobbed at the admission. Her head nodded her confirmation, her throat too overcome with emotion to speak. "And if he couldn't l-love me, then who else could?"

Remus looked at her, his heart breaking along with hers. How he wanted to comfort and proclaim his undying love for her! He cursed Lucius internally for stealing a piece of his mate's confidence. It blinded her to the one thing in front of her and he lamented that they would never be able to overcome this sizable roadblock. "He is wrong, you know," Remus answered instead, pulling one of her hands away from her face. "I cannot imagine a wizard turning away from such a beautiful, intelligent, feisty witch, no matter her status."

She peered over the tips of her fingers. Red-rimmed eyes flooded with tears and timidly, she lifted a hand to touch the side of his face. His chin rested easily in her warm hand. "Your mark is making it easy to fall for your charms, Mr. Lupin."

His face darkened. He leaned away from her embrace, taken aback. "I do not want you to admit any feelings for me because you feel  _compelled_ to do so. My mark holds no sway over your heart." He pushed back and stood from the floor.

She jumped from the couch. "Wait! That is not what I meant." He paused, waiting for her to continue, his posture unnaturally rigid. She didn't need to be marked by him to know she had wounded his feelings. "Maybe your mark at first made things a little confusing. It was hard to distinguish what feelings were mine, truly, and what I felt, or thought I felt. But do not mistake me, I … I have begun to develop feelings for you. At my lowest, you have shown me a kindness unlike any other and you have yet to leave my side. You have been a constant when no one else was there. I could not see it at first, but slowly, I began to notice how much you give to others, leaving almost nothing for yourself. It makes we want to … to give some of that back to you," she admitted quietly. "I'm not sure how, but I do." She stepped forward to close the gap Remus had put between them. "I want to give you what you have given me and that is not compulsion in the slightest," she finished, convinced.

Brown eyes softened and he sighed, but he did not move from his spot. "Are Harry and the others asleep?" he asked. The disappointment at his deflection was clear in her eyes, but Narcissa answered anyway.

"Yes. They retired to their rooms hours ago. I'm afraid Mr. Potter, Draco, and Ms. Granger have taken your room. Blaise, Daphne, and Ms. Lovegood took the spare room downstairs."

Remus nodded and removed his cloak. He threw it on the back of the sofa. "I'll take the couch then." He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and removed his shoes. He figured he could get a few hours of sleep before hungry teenagers descended upon the kitchen. By the sunlight piercing through the windows, Remus gathered he had maybe an hour or two at best.

"Come to my room, Remus," Narcissa spoke before she could think about it and she blushed heavily at the arched brow he gave in return. She simply stated, "A couch is no place to sleep. Draco and the others will be awake soon. You couldn't possibly get any rest out here with all the commotion they are sure to cause."

"All the better, I suppose," Remus resigned himself to his fate. "Harry will have questions and he will want to know about the Order meeting." A weariness she did not understand settled over his features.

But Narcissa was, if anything, persistent. If she really wanted to take care of him (her heart squeezed at the thought that indeed, she did!), then she might as well start now. "I am sure Mr. Potter can take care of himself for a few hours. Now gather your things and come to bed. Now, Remus," she spoke in a strong whisper, ever mindful of their sleeping guests. But her tone was no less stubborn. She could barely contain her satisfied smirk as Remus relented after a moment of hesitation and moved towards the stairs. His sluggish movements spoke of how tired he truly was. She knew the effects of their curse would be upon them next week and it would not do to have his body so worn down.

That thought only strengthened the notion that she was doing the right thing as she followed him into her room. She did not have many possessions out and about, as she always kept a tidy room, but her heart still did a queer jump at the sight of Remus standing inside her bed. He had always respected her privacy since their arrival at the beginning of the year.

He looked around the room. "This used to be my mother and father's room," he spoke, lost in a silent reverie. "My mother put those curtains up after I accidentally burned the old ones," he spoke with a smile.

"I love the view of the gardens," Narcissa admitted as she pulled back the comforter. Both moved in silence as they settled into the bed. It was awkward getting into bed just as the sun was breaking over the horizon, but they had a legitimate reason for just now retiring.

She sat under the duvet, making room for him to get in. Nerves she could not explain fluttered to life as another man joined her in her bed. She was not some blushing virgin and her marriage was practically nonexistent, but still, she could not deny the tremors that had overcome her suddenly. She pushed it to the side with the thought that she was not physically sleeping with him. He just needed somewhere comfortable to rest.

"Are you sure you are alright with this?" he asked, looking down at her in the bed.

"Yes," she stressed. "Now please, or it'll be noon with how you're carrying on."

Remus found he could not disobey her, especially with how adorable she became when she ordered him about. The adrenaline that kept Remus moving fizzled into the air when his head hit the pillow infused with Narcissa's scent. He sighed contently and basked in the lovely view. Narcissa lay on the pillow facing him. He longed to make this a permanent arrangement as he willed his eyes to stay open, but they would not obey. The allure of her scent and her soothing voice bidding him to sleep was too much for his body to ignore.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

If he could spare the precious body fluid, Fenrir's ears would be leaking blood from the repressed rage boiling within. The Dark Lord had played him for a  _fool_! But the injured Alpha was in no position to lose more bodily fluids this night. The beating the Granger bitch had unleashed upon him, coupled with his master's punishment for failing to secure the boy wizard, left Fenrir weakened. As soon as he could limp away from his master's presence, he headed for his pack's temporary home, hidden within the magical forest behind Malfoy Manor.

The Dark Lord had questioned him persistently about the  _ame de loups_. He wanted to know all Fenrir knew about it: how to obtain it and what powers it could provide. Fenrir had answered as best he could. But the Dark Lord was merciless and punished him persistently as if Fenrir purposefully withheld the information from him. He had just learned the truth for himself! Eventually, his deranged master grew weary of his punishment and moved on, leaving Fenrir with the task to secure the boy since Hogwarts' headmaster had failed to do so.

Fenrir couldn't believe that Dumbledore had been working with Voldemort this entire time, but stranger things had happened. As Nightingale assisted Fenrir back to their den, Fenrir stewed at the three teenagers, mere pups, who had been blessed with such a powerful bond. They stood fearlessly before him the night before, ready to meet him so easily in battle; he who had seen and lived to tell about battles they'd read about in history books. Fenrir would not cower before a teenaged bitch who knew nothing about the power she possessed. The idea tore at him. The were-Gods had given such a precious gift to the Granger bitch and not Fenrir, who was of strong werewolf blood, and deserving of such a power.

Fenrir surmised if he could secure the  _ame de loups_  for his own, then he wouldn't have to subject himself to the Dark Lord's whim. After all, this alliance had been forged out of pure necessity. Werewolves still faced prejudice in wizarding society and an alliance with the Dark and their eventual victory meant Fenrir could establish his pack's dominance in Voldemort's new world order.

But even Fenrir knew Voldemort's plans would be hard pressed to succeed if the Malfoy brat, Potter, and their Mudblood friend stood opposite them in battle. The Light may have never had Dumbledore (a powerful foe, he had to admit) on their side, but even with his added power to the Dark, it would be hard to go against a fully-powerful  _ame de loups_.

Voldemort wanted the power to bolster his own, but if Fenrir could steal it, then he would be the true Alpha. The rightful possessor of the bond, as it should be. The Mother of Werewolves would not bless another bond, now that a true  _ame de loups_  had been established. Even if he did not agree with the recipients, it would be another lifetime before such a bond came around again. Could he  _bend_  the holders of the trio to his will, though? Voldemort would never agree, but then again, who was he to understand the dynamics of werewolves? He only used them for their sheer strength and power. If the tip of the scale were to fall in Fenrir's favor, then Voldemort would be the one bending his knee to kiss his feet.

Fenrir would establish his dominance over the wizarding world, and with the  _Lupa_ of the  _ame de loups_  securing his reign. No one, not even the great Dumbledore himself, would be able to stop them.

"I don't know why you allow him to do this to you, Fenrir," Nightingale hissed beside him as she assisted him through the trees and over rotten roots.

"I will heal within a night." He waved off her concern. As Alpha, he would heal quickly. "The Dark Lord is angry. He was bested by a girl and her friends. Even his hidden ace couldn't deliver the whelp," Fenrir chuckled and winched as the intake of air agitated his new wounds. The injuries the Granger girl gave him still hadn't healed, and coupled with the strikes the Dread Lord gave him, he could not overdo it.

Nightingale questioned eagerly, "Is it true then? That the Leader of the Light is really working with Voldemort?"

"Do not say his name!" Fenrir ordered roughly. After a moment he continued, "And yes, it's true. No one was aware of it until tonight that is. Only Bellatrix, the potions master Snape, and I know. I don't believe any others know or if he will tell his followers. It is certainly a boon for our cause."

Nightingale laughed with glee. "The poor sods, they won't even see it coming!"

"I could really care less," Fenrir grumbled. "What truly changes the game, is the securing the  _ame de loups_  for ourselves," Fenrir announced. They approached a makeshift tent made of animal hides. The smoky aroma of cooked meat and mead inside made his mouth water. Ballard waited inside and stood as Fenrir entered the tent.

"But I thought Volde … I mean, the Dark Lord ordered us to capture the boy?" Nightingale asked as she eased her Alpha into a waiting seat.

"Fuck what that deranged lunatic wants! He knows nothing of the power of werewolves!" Fenrir looked meaningfully between Ballard and Nightingale, who had just silenced the tent against eavesdropping. "We all know the Dark Lord won't know the first thing to do with the  _ame de loups._ He will never be able to wield its' power."

"Then what are you suggesting?" Ballard asked as he handed Fenrir a cup of something strong.

"That the  _ame de loups_  remain with the magical creature it was intended for, with us. Imagine if we," he indicated to the group of them, "were able to control such a power. We wouldn't need to ride on the Dark Lord's coattails to our rightful place in society. We could forge our own place and rule these pathetic weaklings on might alone!"

"But Fenrir, how can we possibly control it? You saw what those brats did to us back at Hogwarts," Nightingale argued. "Still wet behind the ears and they nearly beat us. Once their bond is fully formed, it will be 'ard for anyone, even you, to conquer them." Nightingale shrunk back in fear. Even injured, she knew Fenrir would not hesitate to strike her for speaking ill against him, but he had to see reason.

"I am no youngling!" Fenrir growled and she lowered her head, quickly corrected. The tense moment hovered pushing them all into silence. Fenrir coughed and took another swallow of his drink, feeling his eyelids grow heavier. "But I am no fool either. I know to go against them all would prove unwise. No, we cannot break a blood bond, but there are other ways to conquer." Fenrir's lips curled into a twisted smile as he remembered the enticing scent coming from a golden-haired wolf earlier that evening.

"And may I ask what's that?" Ballard raised a questioning brow at the lust darkening Fenrir's pupils.  
Fenrir cut his eyes to his second in command. "Quickly, find out everything you can about the Granger girl. Tell no one where you are going or what we've discussed." No, a blood bond could not be broken, but a familial bond could be forced. Fenrir gave an apologetic look to Nightingale, his part-time lover. She wouldn't be happy, but she what choice did she have? It was either leave the pack or accept his decision. He knew Nightingale had hoped to take his place beside him as  _Lupa_ , but Fenrir needed strength and power to add to his own and currently, one-third of the  _ame de loups_  was in heat.

If Fenrir could successfully mate with Hermione Granger, then she could be persuaded to use her power for his own. No matter her previous loyalties, a mother would do anything to protect her pups. It would be the most difficult thing he's ever done; to pull her away from not one, but two mates. It was a risk Fenrir was willing to take. The goal was too delicious to think otherwise. The other two would have to be killed, of course. But that was small potatoes. The Dark Lord wanted the Potter brat eliminated. Fenrir laughed as he considered his pack's final present would be to finally deliver a dead Harry Potter.

The Dark Lord's alliance with Fenrir's wolves was officially over.

* * *

Well after eleven in the morning, the first stirrings of awareness started to make its way through Howell House. Blaise emerged first from the room he shared with Daphne and Luna, still wearing his school uniform. They all had been caught by surprise and in the middle of finals, no one was packed to leave Hogwarts so suddenly. Blaise and the others had left Hogwarts with nothing but the clothes on their back and their wands. And that would not do. Looking down, he fingered his jumper, stained with dried blood and grime and yearned for a shower. He added a cup of something strong to the list as well.

Cracking his neck, he made his way into the tidy kitchen. Last night was full of restless sleep. His nerves were frayed and his body was on edge and rest would not come. What little he could manage was interrupted by nightmares and Daphne's soft crying.

He spent the remainder of the evening trying to console his witches, but all he could do was hold them close on the small bed. They were alone in an unfamiliar house and they didn't know if their friends had made it out safely after the attack. Blaise gathered Pansy and the other Slytherins would have made it out okay. Hell, they probably knew the attack was coming and did nothing to warn the others. But looking back, they seemed to be just as surprised as he did when the first shocks sounded through the castle.

The other snakes were sure to notice and question when his, Draco, Daphne's absence became apparent in the aftermath. Blaise rummaged about the kitchen cabinets groaning at the meager portions in the fridge. Giving up, he started a pot of tea, knowing the others would probably prefer something strong. It wasn't long before the potent aroma started to fill the first floor. Distantly, Blaise heard a door open and close, followed by footsteps from the upstairs level. By the sound of it, there was only one set of footsteps.

"Good morning, Blaise." Luna appeared behind him. He kissed the top of her temple, still smudged with brown blood. She had tried to clean her face, but there was only so much a  _Scourify_ could do.

"Morning, c _ara_. I hope you okay with tea," he answered. "There isn't too much here."

Luna shrugged. "I suspect Professor Lupin wasn't expecting company before last night." She poured herself a cup.

"Is that tea?" Hermione asked behind them, as she emerged at the top the staircase. Both turned to greet her. Black half-circles lined her eyes, which still whirred with amber flakes and golden specs. It seemed she had fared no better in the sleep department either. "Merlin, that sounds good right about now," she moved to stand them and prepared her cup.

Luna got started on toast and strips of bacon, one of the several selections of meat available. She mimicked Blaise' earlier actions and rummaged through the icebox. "Let's see. There are two kinds of bacon, some sausage, various steaks and …"

"Please say eggs," Blaise muttered into his mug.

"… A side of beef," Luna finished, her head behind the refrigerator door.

Hermione smiled ruefully. "Well, it  _is_  a house full of werewolves. What'd you expect?"

"Some decent food to start," Blaise answered with a frown. A couple pieces of fruit, a loaf of bread, and two muffins lined the counter, but it would barely be enough to feed the lot of them.

Hermione agreed as she assessed Luna's cooking. "I doubt that's going to fill everyone. I'm fine with tea and toast, but Draco and Harry…" she trailed off uncertainly.

Blaise snorted. "Daphne too." Both of the girls looked at him as if he was mental, but he gave them a wicked smile. "I swear it. Oh, she's as thin as a twig, but she could eat us under the table if she wanted. That witch can eat."

"I don't think Daphne would like you speaking about her like that, Blaise," Luna chided over the frying pan, whizzing with bacon fat.

"No," Daphne huffed from the doorway to their bedroom. Hermione laughed quietly into her cup as Daphne assured the room, "I wouldn't." Besides the evil glare she threw Blaise, Daphne said nothing further and smoothed a hand down her rumpled school blouse and skirt. The movement failed to hide the wrinkles from the night before. "Please tell me there's more of that," she half-moaned as she groggily made her way over to the small kitchen. There was a small table, set for four, but all remained standing as they helped themselves to a late brunch.

"And yes, love, there's more bacon as well," Blaise teased as he pulled Daphne in for a kiss. She pushed at him playfully. He suddenly sobered his arm tight around her shoulders. "You okay?"

Daphne lowered her eyes, but all could see the worry cross her brow. "I will be."

"What is it?" Hermione asked. If the matching dark smudges under their eyes were any indication, Hermione had a good idea.

Daphne shrugged but answered her Lupa after a moment. "Nightmares. Although, I can't say I'm surprised after last night. It's just that I have never seen so much blood before … and at Hogwarts … It was never supposed to happen there," she trailed off as she turned her head to look out the window.

They all agreed. Hogwarts was their haven. Yes, there were bad things happening in the world and the edges were creeping in. Still, somewhere in their hearts, they couldn't fathom that the war would find them at school. That Dumbledore, the man they trusted to keep them sheltered, had a hand at architecting the charade stung as lemon juice poured into a festering wound.

"I didn't believe it, either," Hermione agreed as the room delved into silence.

Those silent moments inched them farther from childhood. Blaise, sensing a change in mood, carefully changed the conversation to a lighter subject and rather cheekily observed, "At least some of us had a good night, though." He nodded towards the two sofas in the parlor room.

At the base of one sofa was a ragged pair of men's work boots. A worn cloak draped across the back of the sofa. Their group hadn't come in with cloaks or boots last night. They quickly deduced that Remus had returned sometime in the early morning hours. Hermione, Luna, and Daphne recognized the now cold mug of Narcissa's tea resting on the side table. Aided by caffeine sharpening their senses, their eyes widened as the implied meaning dawned within their eyes.

"Is that …?" Daphne ventured at the same time Hermione asked.

"You don't think … ?" Hermione looked at the group of shell-shocked teenagers. "I mean, it couldn't possibly mean what I assume we all are thinking." And yes, they were  _all_ thinking it.

Blaise waggled his eyebrows. "And why can't it? From where I'm standing, it looks like we weren't the only ones to bunk together last night."

"I don't know why any of you find this surprising," Luna added between them, trying to speak over the cooking bacon.

Daphne made a face. "Because it's Mrs. Malfoy and…"

"Professor Lupin," Hermione finished, a mix of surprise on her face. "I mean, I thought they might have grown close since Christmas, but still …" Hermione trailed off as another thought entered her foggy brain. "Oh, God," she turned towards Blaise, horrified. "You cannot tell Draco!"

Blaise only howled in return, fully awake now that he had his morning cuppa. He plopped a piece of Luna's cooling bacon into his mouth. "And why ever not? This is gold and I'll thank you not to ruin my fun this morning." He pointed a piece of bacon at her. "We deserve it after the shitty night we had last night," he said with all seriousness.

Hermione couldn't argue with him there, but she placed her firm hands on her hips, ever protective of her mates. "My point exactly. He's not in the right frame of mind to hear his mum spent the night with our former DADA professor."

Blaise gave her a skeptical look. "And that's supposed to deter me? It's the perfect time."

Daphne groaned as she sat down at the table with a plate full of food and a steaming mug filled to the brim. "Guys, please. With the way you're carrying on, you're  _both_  going to let Draco know before he even wakes up."

"Let me know what?" said-blond drawled as he and Harry thundered down the stairs. Apparently, the scent of bacon drifting through the house was better than any alarm clock when it came to teenage boys.

Hermione promptly closed her mouth. Other than the sight of their supernatural eyes, Harry and Draco looked no worse for wear. Their sleep hadn't been the best as it was woefully short, but her two mates lit up when they saw her. She would have held out both her hands, but seeing as she needed one to hold her cup, she stretched her free hand to Harry and Draco. Harry just happened to grab it first.

Harry kissed the back of her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Morning."

She smiled, content to see them safe and no worse for wear. "Good morning, Harry. Good morning, Draco."

Draco grabbed her by the waist, almost spilling her tea onto his shirt. Not that it mattered; it was soiled and needed to be trashed most desperately. Draco kissed her on the nose. "You were speaking about me," he stated, taking a swig from her cup. Hermione let him. Draco looked to the others, who except for Harry and Blaise, refused to make eye contact with him.

Blaise was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"What's got you in a right mood?" Draco peered at the Italian, finally releasing Hermione's waist.

"Oh, something Hermione wanted to share with you," Blaise easily offered. "Bacon's ready." He held up his plate, indicating his portion, thanked Luna, and sat down with Daphne at the table.

At the mention of food, Harry promptly moved into the kitchen and tucked into his own plate.

"Perhaps, you'd want to eat first?" Hermione offered, trying to hide the heat blooming across her cheeks behind her mug. Although, she wasn't sure why; it wasn't like it was she did anything wrong. But she couldn't shake the feeling of being busted loose. Draco's snowy stare would be her undoing.

Draco tilted his head to the side, content to unravel her in front of an audience. "I think I'd rather not."

Oh dear. How was she going to say this? Best on and out with it, she supposed. She glanced quickly at Blaise, the prat's mouth full of muffin. Her hands hitched to hex him for bringing up such a sensitive topic so early in the day. These types of things always fell to her to explain. Luckily, Harry (Morgana bless him!) jumped in before she could open her mouth.

"Hey Luna, this is great! Thanks!" Harry replied gratefully through his breakfast. "Although there isn't much left for Remus and Narcissa," he observed and the group fell oddly silent. Harry looked bewildered and swallowed a mouthful of fruit, "What?"

Draco peered first at Hermione, then over her shoulder to Blaise, unaware of the death glare his friend was throwing him. "Just where are Professor Lupin and my mother?" Draco quietly asked.

"I don't think they've awakened yet," Luna observed, with a wink.

Draco looked around again, his gaze quickly landing on the one place Hermione willed him not to look. The blond didn't say anything. He did not explode, but Hermione knew it was a matter of time. In fact, he just stood there; the slight coloring of his cheeks the only indication that he was hadn't gone into shock.

"Draco?" Hermione ventured hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

Blaise' smiled widened.

Timidly, Hermione laid a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Draco?" she repeated with a little more force.

Snapping back into himself, Draco's line of sight swung around to face her. Both of her mates could feel her apprehension grow, and he smiled to ease the lines of worry spreading across her features. "Yeah … yeah, just caught me by surprise, actually." The blond tried and failed to school his face, but it was too late. A small facial tick gave him away.

Hermione didn't believe him and pressed, "Are you sure?"

"There are only three bedrooms here, Draco. They had to sleep somewhere," Daphne logically explained, hoping to abate the building anger she knew was coming from her housemate.  
"There  _are_  two couches across the way," Blaise offered helpfully, which was followed by an, "Ow!" He frowned at Daphne sitting across from him and rubbed his leg underneath the table.

"Shut it! You're not helping," she admonished.

Harry sat down between them with his plate. "Actually, you're both not helping," he pointed out and helped himself to a mouthful of bacon.

"Why would you think Draco needs help?" Luna innocently asked as she leaned against the counter. "I think it's beautiful. A natural course of events."

Behind Draco, Hermione furiously shook her head and made a silencing motion across her neck. Blaise burst out laughing, the unexpected guffaw causing him to splatter bits of muffin across the table.

"Eww, that's disgusting!" Daphne exclaimed.

This had gone horribly wrong. Hermione turned towards Draco, whose flushed cheeks were now visibly red. "Draco, are you sure you're — ?"

Her mate cut her off and warned the room, his voice carrying a touch of frost. "If you all don't shut your mouths this instant …"

Blaise decidedly ignored the threat. "If you need advice on how to deal with stepfathers, mate, I've got  _years_  of experience."

Dear Merlin! The temperature dropped drastically within the kitchen and Hermione mentally warned Draco to reel it back in. But he did not wait to hear another word. Draco spun on his heel and left the cramped room. Instead of fleeing the house in a blur of anger, as Hermione thought he'd would, she stood horrified as Draco make a run for the stairs, tiny patches of frozen floor appearing beneath his feet.

"Shit!" Harry exclaimed, pushing his chair from the table. He ran after Draco. Blaise was right behind him. Both slipped on the now icy steps as they lunged for Draco's ascending form.

"Draco, what the devil are you doing?!" Blaise grabbed a leg as Harry grabbed a hold of the blond's left arm. The railings were frozen and both struggled to breathe through icy vapors.

"I need to have a word with my mother," Draco answered icily.

"Not like this you don't!" Harry tried to wrestle the blond back down the stairs, but his slipping feet made it hard to get a proper hold. "Draco, stop!"

Draco tried to pull his body free of them both. "This is my mother you're talking about!" Before his eyes were a calm snowfall; now they rushed like a violent blizzard.

"And that is Remus' mate!" Harry answered back hotly. His own irises swam to life. The golden lightening rods spun around the forest of green and jade as Harry pushed some of his power into his voice. "You said it yourself! Barge in there like this now and you'll only start a fight. And I promise you it won't end well." Harry would, without a doubt, defend his mate if things went badly, but he would not condone his own starting a fight that was completely unnecessary. They had others to fight and could not afford to waste time fighting each other.

"What do you expect me to do?!" Draco roared as Blaise helped Harry to secure his hold on the ever-struggling blond. "Sit back and just let this happen?!"

"I expect you to listen to me and back  **down**!" Hermione shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Magic made her voice carry as all in the room stilled at her words. Draco froze, his chest heaving with effort. He threw Blaise off of him, who slid down the stairs with a loud curse.  
T

he girls gathered around the bottom, looking up at the two. Their hands wrapped around their frames to stave off the chill, despite the May sun blanketing the house. Daphne and Hermione assisted Blaise to his feet carefully. Draco had frozen part of the floorboards, the stairs and various places on the railing on the trek up to his mother's room. Now, Draco and Harry stood eye-to-eye midway up the stair, before turning their attention to their Lupa.

"Look, I get that you're not happy about this," Hermione began. "But there are bigger things going on at the moment. We  _need_  Professor Lupin. We wouldn't had have anywhere to go if it hadn't been for him last night and … and you're just going to have to make do when it comes to your mother," Hermione huffed suddenly frustrated as she waved a hand at the frozen mess he'd created. "So, tone this down a little, at least until after breakfast? Speak with your mother later. Throw your temper tantrum then for all I care, but you will not, and I repeat,  **not**  harm Professor Lupin. Are we clear, Draco?"

Draco silently fumed, but curtly nodded his head. "Crystal."

"Good," Hermione affirmed with a nod.

"Now, we need to re-heat our breakfast thanks to you." Harry carefully made his way down the stairs, mindful of the icy spots, but as Draco's anger subsided, the ice that had materialized gradually began to melt.

"Thanks for throwing me down the stairs, ponce," Blaise muttered to Draco after Harry made his way back into the kitchen.

"Serves you right for acting like one," Draco muttered back as the two got to work on re-heating the food Luna had prepared for them.

Blaise shrugged. It was no harm, no foul. He knew his friend was still adjusting to the idea of their former professor and his mother, together, mated for life. It would take them all some time to get used to that one. But what kind of friend would Blaise be if he didn't good-naturedly rib Draco every now again? It certainly made up for all the whining Blaise had to put up with over the years. Deciding to give a last one for the road, Blaise responded, "Even still. My previous offer on stepfathers still stands."

"Fuck you, Zabini."

* * *

Meanwhile, behind the last closed door on the second floor, an entirely different, yet similar conversation was occurring.

"Well, that certainly answers my question," Remus half-yawned from the bed covers.

A hand reached for the nightstand and searched for the wand that lay there. Adeptly, it performed a  _Tempus_  charm. "It's not even noon yet," Narcissa groaned as she pushed back the covers. "I had hoped for some semblance of quiet until then." The full moon was rapidly approaching and both werewolves were starting to feel the draining effects of their curse.

Remus chuckled and suddenly a warm body pressed up behind her. "I'm afraid it won't be quiet here for the foreseeable future." Remus pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and Narcissa turned in his arms to face him.

Narcissa flushed suddenly. "I knew Draco would not be entirely supportive, but I wasn't expecting that."

Remus shifted so that she lay underneath him. "It's not the first time I squared off with your son. I doubt it'll be the last. I can tolerate it because I know he wants to protect you. And I've years of displaying patience. But Hermione was right. It would have been … messy to try to interrupt us now." Remus gave her a rogue grin, reminiscent of a young boy, as he leaned towards her. That grin awakened butterflies in places that had long lain dormant.

"Why now?" she asked breathlessly as she awaited his answer.

Remus could sense her trepidation and pulled away from her. "Is something the matter?" he probed gently.

Narcissa shook her head, determined to rid herself of these silly fears. "No, no. It's just … I haven't lain with a man beside Lucius -"

"Do not speak his name," he interrupted with a growl. He tilted her chin towards him and fingers pressed tightly into her jaw. "Do not think his name. I am not him nor will I ever be. I will love you the way you deserve to be loved. I will cherish you the way you deserve to be cherished. There will never be a reason for you to doubt my love as long as you live." He pulled her chin in and captured her lips.

Remus reaffirmed his promise with his kiss. He would not abandon her; she was his. His ears delighted in her moans as his hands traveled under her blouse. Every bit of new skin he discovered felt exquisite. He groaned in rapture as she pulled him to her. Haunted visions and dreams that had teased him over the years made his hands tremble as he caressed her skin.

She was the most enticing scent he had ever inhaled, a mixture of flowers and new earth, from her time spent in the garden. It was sweeter than anything he ever tasted. Not even the enticing scents of HoneyDukes could rival her natural pheromones and it drove him wild. He nibbled on her neck, basking in the breathy gasps she gave as he suckled the skin into his mouth.

Every sound Remus committed to memory. He pushed away the thought that fate would somehow take her from him. After all, he had waited so long to find her. He couldn't deny that such a thing was impossible. They were fighting a war. But for time being, he would take his time exploring the underside of her jaw, her cheeks, her nose, and the softest lips he had ever tasted.

Narcissa writhed beneath him and the friction was glorious. He ground his hips cautiously against hers and when she answered in kind, his practiced patience shattered. He raised his head to take in her flushed state. Her breathing was uneven, her eyes closed, and cheeks stained with a pretty flush. Shut eyes fluttered open when his ministrations ceased. They asked the unspoken question with her gaze.

Very calmly, Remus spoke, "If you want me to go no further, tell me now. I have waited twenty years for this moment, and I will be hard pressed to stop should we continue." He was giving her an out. If she wanted to wait, he would understand. Her son was downstairs, after all. He did not want to press her into something she was not yet ready for … because his goal was forever.

She lay on her pillow, pale hair disheveled around her. She bore unhealed scratches from the battle last night, but to him, she was perfect. Tracing a path across his hairline, she pushed his brown hair out of his face. He had been letting it grow too long, woefully neglecting it these last few months in favor of other matters.

Her mouth opened, but no words came forth at first. "After the full moon," Narcissa answered, determined. "I don't want our first time to be sullied by our sickness." She pushed more of his hair up and out of his eyes. "Thank you," she answered him with a kiss, her eyes alight with promise.

Lazily the two werewolves dressed, stealing kisses and caresses as they made their way downstairs. Mindful that Draco and the others would be waiting, Remus dropped Narcissa's hand, but held firm to her waist.

None noticed their arrival as the living room was a flurry of activity. Six large trunks sat stacked about the room. Dobby the house elf excitedly jumped up and down as he spoke with Harry in the middle of it all.

"Dobby is so glad you were not harmed, Sir!" Dobby exclaimed. "Everyone is looking for Harry Potter. They say he had disappeared!" Dobby squeaked.

"I'm fine, Dobby," Harry assured the elf. "We all are. Thanks for bringing our trunks. We didn't exactly have time to pack before we left. But don't tell anyone I'm here just yet."

"Of course, Sir! Dobby is happy to help Harry Potter and his friends!" With a snap, Dobby left and the six teenagers quickly rummaged through their trunks. Instantly taken back to his Hogwarts days, Remus watched with amusement as the group argued heatedly over shower assignments.

"I see you've all acquired your belongings," Remus spoke to the group as an argument about shower arrangements commenced. He ignored the heat of Draco's stare on his back as Narcissa went to start another pot of tea.

"Yeah, Dobby brought them actually. He told me a lot of students are leaving for the summer hols already and offered to bring our things here."

"I'd imagine the rest of the school year is probably moot at this point," Remus agreed with a shrug. "If you want, I can inform you what happened at the Order meeting last night. Unless you rather wait until after your shower?"

The group stilled as they picked up on the word 'Order'.

"Might as well," Harry decided. "Doesn't look like I'm getting in anytime soon."

"We all want to know what happened," Hermione spoke aloud, closing her trunk, a fresh set of clothes in hand.

Remus took the cup of tea Narcissa handed him and smiled his thanks. The first swallow warmed his insides and he recounted the important points from last night's frantic meeting. He left out the accusations thrown at his mate. It angered him to even think on it, and decided it would do no good to bring it up again. Narcissa was already on fragile ground trying to deal with Lucius' aftermath. She didn't need the misgivings of the Order on top of that.

"So, they know then?" Hermione asked, regarding Remus' decision to tell the Order about the  _ame de loups_. "How … how did they take it?"

"About as expected. I'm afraid the youngest Weasleys took it the hardest," Remus answered truthfully as he looked directly at Harry and Hermione.

The two Gryffindors looked down, clearly upset. The others weren't as close to the Weasleys as they were, but they still felt discomfort at seeing their Lupa so uncomfortable.

"I'll speak with Ron," Harry spoke quietly. "Ginny too. They should have heard it from me."

"I only told the Order because if the Dark knows, then they should know as well. It is only fair," Remus cautioned, expecting the group to be angry with him.  
Hermione only nodded in return as she met his steely gaze.

"There is something you should know as well, Remus," he stated forebodingly. Harry ran a tired hand through his hair, the exhaustion settling in once more. "We found out last night and it'll likely complicate things a bit with the Order."

Hermione uncharacteristically snorted.

"More than a bit, I'd say," Draco scoffed sarcastically.

"Before the attack began, Hermione, Draco, and I went to meet with Dumbledore about the Cabinet, as you suggested. But when we got there, Proffessor Dumbledore already knew that the Cabinet was fixed." Harry's eyes shone brightly as he recalled the conversation in the Headmaster's office. "He wanted me to come with him. He knew Voldemort was after me that night and offered me protection. When I refused …"

"He tried to kill us," Hermione spoke to the group, her voice clipped and full of restrained emotion.

Shocked gasps came from Remus and Narcissa. The holders of the White Tie were the only ones who remained silent.

"It's true," Hermione stated resolutely. "Dumbledore's …" Her voice faltered and she found it hard to voice the statement aloud, so Harry continued for her.

"Dumbledore's been working with Voldemort this entire time, Remus. Since before my parents … I don't know how far back this goes," Harry admitted. "The Order of the Phoenix, the Light, it's all a sham! They're in it together. He told us he purposefully gave up Grimmauld's location at Christmas to appease Voldemort. And if I refused to come with last night, then I was forfeiting my life."

The air stilled and no one spoke. Very quickly, Remus rushed forward to Harry. He laid heavy hands on each of Harry's shoulders and peered deeply into his multi-colored eyes. Harry thought he was about to cast  _Legilimens_  on him, but he felt no uncomfortable nudges behind his eyes.  
Harry stared back at Remus. "It's the truth. I swear it."

Light brown eyes searched Harry's. "Do you know what you're saying, Harry? Do you have any idea what this means?"

"It means what he just told you!" Draco shouted beside them, growing angry that Remus wouldn't remove his hands from his mate. His eyes narrowed. "The Order is a lie, a ruse propped up by Dumbledore to give himself a proper alibi. No one would believe the Leader of the Light had secretly partnered with the Dark Lord."

Closing his eyes on a sigh, Remus whispered, "Harry, the ramifications of this… the fallout. Not even I can protect you …"

"They need to know!" Harry pressed. "All of them. Ron, Ginny, Fred and George and the others! My parents died fighting for an illusion! Sirius could still be alive if it wasn't for his lies! I can't let him get away with this. I won't!"

Remus briefly bowed his head. He squeezed Harry's shoulders before releasing them. When he lifted his head, a resolute wolf stood before him. "And you've told no one else of this?"

Harry shook his head in the negative. "There wasn't any time. Hermione saved us with her quick thinking, but the school was under attack. We tried to tell you after we fought Fenrir and his pack, but by then, you were pressing us to leave. No one else knows, Remus, but I can't leave them in the dark. At least they will know. They might not believe me, but they can make a proper choice!"

"Harry, you can't simply announce to the Order that a wizard they have believed in for so long is working for the very evil they are trying to eradicate. Because even with this newest revelation, Dumbledore has done a lot of good in his time." Remus raised his voice over the dissenting teenagers. "Regardless of what you will say, others will not be so quick to overlook his kindness through the years. I, being one of them. He never once made me feel uncomfortable for what I am when I was a student at Hogwarts. He went out of his way to keep my secret hidden from others. I was able to get an education because of it. I can't just blindly turn an eye to that. Others will feel the same way," Remus lamented. "But it doesn't mean I don't believe you, Harry. I do. And while the thought may take some time to get used to the idea, please know that I believe you."

"I do as well," Narcissa added as she stood beside Remus. "I'm not sure what I can do, but whatever I can do to aid you all, I will see to it."

Before the events of last night, they all expected to take what Harry said as truth, no questions asked. But the world had changed. They had changed. No one could expect complete loyalty without question — people did not work that way. So for Remus and Narcissa to give the  _ame de loups_ their support on nothing but the claims of a couple of underage wizards spoke volumes.

"Thank you, Professor Lupin. Mrs. Malfoy. That means a lot." Hermione replied for them all. It felt good to have at least someone in their corner.

* * *

In a record four days, Howell House was officially out of food. Hermione knew it would happen by the way her pack inhaled food, so a quick trip to the market was organized. Before the group's arrival, Remus made the trips to local town as this was his childhood home. But with the full moon rapidly approaching, he opted to remain home and rest.

Hermione expected Narcissa to stay with him, but she insisted she accompany the girls to the market, citing cabin fever. Hermione surmised the new werewolf had never been to the local towne and was just as curious about her surroundings as Hermione was. Narcissa hid her sickness well, but Hermione could see the physical toll it was wracking upon her body. Narcissa claimed the fresh air would do her good, so Hermione did not press the matter.

After making a dozen promises to be safe (as if Hermione had never been around Muggles before), the group started down the dirt road. Hermione did end up performing a glamour charm on her eyes, however. In the four days since their eyes had shifted, she had gotten used to their eerie glow, but for today, she magicked them to a plain brown and soon, they were on their way. The walk to town was only twenty minutes, but the weather made for a pleasant trip.

Hermione pointed out a local grocer as they arrived at the edge of town. As they entered the air-conditioned building, everyone split up, a list of items to procure in hand. Hermione had toiletries on her list and easily navigated to her selected aisle. Luna, oddly enough, was able to make her way through the Muggle store just fine, but Hermione had to stifle a laugh at the sight of Daphne and Narcissa wondering about the aisles in amazement.

Their eyes widened to the point of hilarity at the various cartoons on the cereal boxes and bright packages. Everything was something to be pointed at and examined ("Who would ever eat a box full of rabbit's tricks?" and "Why would you want your Pocket Hot — and they placed a freezing charm on it?").

"You would think they'd at least play respectable music in here," Hermione overheard Narcissa chide as she paid the cashier. You certainly wouldn't hear the Weird Sisters crooning ' _If you wannabe my lover, you gotta get with my friends!'_  At least Luna seemed to think it was catchy, as the blonde bobbed her in head to the infectious beat.

Before long the group headed back, carrying packages under their arms. Unfortunately, they could not levitate the packages and had to carry the food all the way back to the house. By the time they completed the trek, Hermione was sweating in uncomfortable places, her arms burned, and her mouth was aching for a glass of water. She nearly bit Harry and Blaise' heads off for trying to get into their bags before she even got into the house. They had just purchased this food (with the help of Harry and Draco's vaults, which Remus kindly exchanged at Gringotts) and by Merlin, it was going to last at least a day!

In vain, she fought off them off and tried to put away the groceries with Luna and Daphne's help. She could barely contain her smile while they pilfered their purchases and by time she caught exasperated eyes with Daphne, Hermione burst out laughing.

But the easy laughter was cut short by the sound of raised voices coming above them. Harry quit eating his banana as everyone froze at the sound of shouting coming from above. By the sound of it, Remus and Draco were teetering on the edge of disaster.

Cursing in three different languages to herself, Narcissa knew she should have spoken to her son beforehand, but he had been purposefully avoiding her.

"—If you had any respect for her at all, you would have never put her in such a position!" Draco spat.

"I'm a wizard of my word, Draco. I have never forced your mother against her will!" Remus argued back.

"You took her will when you marked her!

Not everyone could fit up the stairs at the same time, but Narcissa and Hermione made to the top landing first. The hallway was narrow as Narcissa pushed her way to Remus and Draco, but it was too little, too late.

Draco had thrown himself at Remus. No magic was used, but punches had been thrown. Some were blocked, some landed. Narcissa could see the anger building in Remus' eyes. It was one thing to insult him for being a werewolf, but it was a completely another to insult a wizard's honor. She could make out a hint of fierce yellow within Remus' eyes and cursed their closeness to the full moon. It would be impossible for emotions to be tamed.

"Draco," Narcissa pulled at her son. "That is ENOUGH!"

The blond staggered, allowing Hermione to pull him away of Remus. Draco stared at her, sneering at her as if she did something wrong. The red around his eye sharpened the snowy field within his iris and he pushed his way through everyone gathered on the staircase. Embarrassed for her son's behavior, Narcissa whispered a quick apology to the group and hurried after him. The screen door snapped on it hinges from the force of her push and she rushed down the steps, the wind whipping through her blouse and hair as she marched after her son.

Draco headed towards the forest, his back ram-rod straight. He knew he was being followed. First, Narcissa was downwind of him and second, she was the only one equipped to deal with him in such a mood. His father had often reacted the same way over the years.

The angry accusations replayed over in her mind and it pushed her feet faster. She called out as she narrowed the gap between them. "Draco, turn around and speak to me this instant!" Narcissa called over the wind.

"I need some time alone, Mother," he grated back at her.

The distance between them closed as she neared him. "Not this time, Draco. So far, I've been tolerant of your behavior. So much has happened that I thought it best to give you some time to adjust, but I see now all I have done is to encourage your despicable behavior."

Draco stopped abruptly, just under the tree cover of the surrounding wood, before spinning to face his mother. " _My_  behavior?! Are you really questioning my behavior when you've -" Draco did not finish his statement as a forceful slap echoed against his cheek. His head turned with the impact.

"Watch your mouth, Draco Malfoy," Narcissa visibly darkened as she stared up her son. Even though her son towered over her in height, her anger made grow tall. "I am still your mother and I will not tolerate such blatant disrespect. I understand you and Remus had a previous altercation during the Christmas holidays while I was unconscious, but it high time you move past that, Draco."

Draco turned his head forward, his cheek beet red. He growled, "He's marked you without your consent. You wouldn't be saying half of the stuff you've said if it wasn't for his -"

"If it wasn't for him marking me, I would have died!" Narcissa yelled, incensed at her son's implication. She didn't voice aloud that once she had agreed with him. "I thought even you could have appreciated the thought!"

"Oh, please, Mother, drop the dramatics."

She blinked rapidly to keep the fury of her wolf at bay. "What is your problem, Draco? What will it take for you to see that I'm happy with Remus? Yes, it was all unfortunate how everything came about, but … but Remus and I have talked about fate and … maybe this was meant to happen, Draco. Maybe this  _is_  where we were meant to end up."

"You can't be serious!" Draco scoffed.

"I am! You've no idea how much I have endured over the years with your father. I've loved him for most of my adult life and a small part of me still does. But I've been incredibly lonely over the years, even before he was arrested. Then you left over the summer. My life completely changed in the most horrid way, and then I had to hear from Remus what you, Mr. Potter, and Ms. Granger had done?!" Narcissa stabbed a pointed finger in his chest. "You weren't the only one scared within our home, but the difference is that I stayed, Draco! I stayed to protect you as best I could and you left … My world upended that night you brought me to Grimmauld Place and although a part of me hated that Remus was the only person I had any sort of interaction with, he became a constant in my life. I found out I was a werewolf from Remus, I shifted that first moon with Remus, and I've suffered through every emotion you could possibly imagine with Remus! He never left my side, Draco. Do you know how left out and hurt I felt when I heard that you undertook a magical bond with a boy you had hated since you were eleven? I've owled and owled you these past months, only to receive a short note saying 'it was too dangerous to speak at Hogwarts' -"

"I did it for your protection!" he argued, though the fight within had started to fade.

"My protection?! Draco, Remus has been the one protecting me since he brought me here. He has done so much for me, so much I'm just now beginning to see. And I refuse to let you come in here with your pre-conceived notions and what you 'think' is best for me and ruin it all," she fumed, her anger fueling the nausea of her curse in the pit of her stomach. She took deep breaths in effort not to get sick all over her son.

Draco quietly allowed the moment to simmer. "Do you love him?" He crossed his arms defiantly.

The dizziness made it difficult to focus, but she picked up on the word 'love'. "What?"

"It's a simple question. Do you love him, Mother? I apologize for leaving last summer. I made a rash decision I thought would benefit us at the time. But you must know, my goal was always to come back for you. But I couldn't very well sneak us both out of the Manor … thinking back on it, I wouldn't change a thing, to tell you the truth. None of it. Because it's given me … I've found something I'm not willing to give up, something I willing to fight and die for and I'm not just talking about a cause, Mother. Do you understand?"

"You mean Harry Potter and Hermione Granger?"

"Yes," Draco replied quietly. "And for all the trouble I've come to face because of a decision I made and for all the trouble I've yet to, I wouldn't change it for the world. You can call it fate or what have you, but it would not change where my heart lies. But  _I_  made the decision, no one forced me to …  _You_  weren't given a choice."

"You think I love Remus because he forced his mark upon me?"

Draco raised a brow over his swollen eye. "So, you admit you love him?"

Narcissa sighed, aghast. "Whether I love him or not is beside the point, Draco. My point is that any feelings I may or may not have are of my own volition. The choice to become a werewolf was not mine, but my choice to love or not love Remus is my own. I gave my love freely to your father once and he threw it in my face," she replied bitterly.

Draco grew dark. "He did what?"

Narcissa deflected, not wanting to start another argument with her son. "It's over and done with now, Draco. But if I should choose to give my love again, it would be to someone deserving. And Remus has done nothing to show me otherwise."

Draco quietly watched her for a few moments. "I apologize again for leaving you at the Manor. Perhaps, if I had found a way to get you out sooner, the Dark Lord would have never used you as a tool against me. Perhaps, none of this would have happened," he thoughtfully reflected, uncrossing his arms to shove his hands inside his trouser pockets.

Narcissa reached up to push the fringe out of his eyes. "You cannot blame yourself, Draco. I certainly don't. Don't hold onto this guilt, it will eat you alive. Just know that I am happy here with Remus. I only wish I could have found him sooner."

Draco gave a partial smile. "Fate can be cruel mistress."

Narcissa chuckled ruefully. "I think I said something similar to that effect a while ago. And yet, my son, she can also be kind. Do you want to head back now? It's getting cool out here and I didn't bring a cloak."

Draco tucked his mother's outstretched arm into his elbow and they walked back to the house in silence. After a few moments, Draco sullenly admitted, "Blaise keeps teasing me about having a new stepfather. It's pissing me off."

Narcissa tsked at such crude language, but answered, "He is only trying to rankle you. You let him succeed too easily."

"He's not the only one. They're all against me," Draco sulked.

Narcissa laughed outright at her son's propensity to over-exaggerate. "Draco, I think you're looking at this incorrectly."

"Maybe, but after all that's happened to you, you deserve nothing but the best. If it's him, so be it … Is it true, then? You're happy here, even with a glorified barn for a home?"

She halted their leisurely walk. "Draco, I have come to realize an important lesson. The physical state of a home does not equal a person's happiness. A happy home is built on mutual trust, love, and communication. With it, one can make the least grand of homes seem like a palace. Without it, the grandest of manors can feel like a prison," she hinted meaningfully.

Draco looked down on his mother as they reached the back porch. "I gather I should apologize to Remus since you are content on staying here."

Narcissa nodded her agreement, realizing it was the truth. "I am."

And so, the two Malfoys re-entered the house. Remus stood from his chair by the door as they entered, looking no worse for wear than Draco. The group looked on in a combination of worry and anxiety for what was to come next. However, no further words could be spoken as Hermione spoke aloud first.

Determined, she began, "Right. It doesn't do us any favors to fight amongst ourselves." Hermione nodded towards Draco and Remus. "We may have disagreements, but for better or worse, we are a family. And a family will sometimes fight … but we ultimately look after each other. Professor Lupin, I don't think we had a chance to properly thank you for bringing us here after the attack on Hogwarts. But, with yours and Mrs. Malfoy's consent, I would like to make this 'arrangement' permanent."

"What do you mean, Hermione?" Remus asked.

"Hermione's asking you to join the 'White Tie'," Draco answered for his Lupa. He quickly explained the bond Blaise, Daphne, and Luna shared. Afterward, Remus and Narcissa shared an apprehensive look.

Remus swallowed deeply, his hands nervously shoved into his pockets. Hermione could tell the older wizard was at a loss for words. "… I've never heard of the White Tie before."

"It's just a name," Hermione explained, sensing the older werewolf's hesitation. "It's the only way I can bring you into our pack, as it were. It's just not about you and Mrs. Malfoy protecting myself, Harry, and Draco. As long as I'm alive, I'll protect you too." Hermione caught eyes with Harry and Draco, who nodded in agreement. "Like I said earlier, a family."

"Will it hurt?" Narcissa asked from her spot in between her son and Remus.

"It does not entail a forced transformation. It only binds you to me," Hermione pointed out.

"It's pretty cool," Blaise offered from personal experience. "You get to listen to Granger all day in your head."

"Only if I wish," Hermione stressed. "You'll be given your own independence, not much will change from what you're already used to. But you won't be alone anymore Professor," she looked at Remus. "I know with Sirius gone, it must have been hard for you. But you don't have to do this alone. And Mrs. Malfoy," she turned to Narcissa. "Since it seems like you'll be sticking around, you'll learn how we Gryffindors stick together," she said with a wink.

"I think you'll be hard-pressed to change this snake, Ms. Granger," she gave back easily. But instead of the usual frost, she returned her wink with a small smile.

Hermione's smile brightened. "Great! So Professor Lupin and Mrs. Malfoy -"

Narcissa interjected, "Please. Call me by my first name."

"Alright … Narcissa," she tasted the name on her lips. "I'll need you both to step forward and link hands." Having cast it before, Hermione expertly performed the White Tie and bonded the mated pair to her while the others looked on. With the completion of their vows to serve the  _ame de loups_ , Hermione's small pack grew.

After the rite had been completed, Hermione broke into a wide grin, impatient to explain, "And if I recall correctly, after performing the White Tie with Blaise, Luna, and Daphne, they were able to shift at will," she hinted towards Remus, her grin growing ever wider.

Remus shook his head, partly bewildered. "It's impossible for a werewolf to change outside of the full moon," he spoke incredulously, his eyes daring the impossible. "Sometimes a natural-born werewolf could do so without the aid of the moon, but never a bitten werewolf."

Instead, Hermione indicated for them to try it, that smug feeling she was about to be proved correct at the tip of her tongue.

Thinking himself mad for attempting to do so, Remus closed his eyes and sought the inner wolf within. In a shimmer of light, the world shrank, and before where there were painful transformations, only a cool caress of magic hummed over his skin. He opened his eyes and found his line of sight at Hermione's knees.

Remus looked up to see Harry smiling down at him before glancing around for Narcissa.

 _Remus!_ Narcissa shouted. _Remus, it's true! We shifted,_ she affirmed as her wolf form yipped happily.

He nuzzled his head against her neck, relishing in the soft fur. With another thought, Remus shifted back to his human form. He held Narcissa's within his arms. Unshed tears made her eyes bright and she pulled her bottom lip in.

"How do you feel, Remus?" Narcissa asked softly.

Gods, how could he describe it? This overwhelming burden, a sickness that never healed was suddenly lifted from his shoulders. "…Free," he answered simply.  
Because even though the full moon was close at hand, there was no sickness or exhaustion licking at his bones. The nausea that gathered just before the change was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had drunk ten pepper-up potions. He wanted to jog ten miles, his body felt so renewed. An overwhelming urge to laugh overtook him suddenly.

Both Remus and Narcissa turned to look at Hermione, the appreciation deep within their combined gazes. "It's gone," Remus whispered in awe, tears clouding his vision. He pulled Narcissa close until her head laid on his chest. "The sickness is gone, Hermione."

"Brilliant!" Hermione beamed through unshed tears, suddenly emotional for her former professor.

Blaise interrupted with a loud whoop. "This calls for wine!"

"You Italians and your wine!" Daphne teased, but she too, wiped an eye beneath her glasses.

Remus kissed Narcissa full-on the mouth amid catcalls and whistles. Draco rolled his eyes and turned his head, but even he could not stop the small smile.  
Feeling festive, rounds of wine and sliced fruit from the newly stocked cupboards made their way around the living room. The group celebrated well into the night. Draco and Remus joined in the fun, their heated conversation now a fading memory.

Before they retired for the evening, Hermione witnessed Remus pulling Draco to the side. The two exchange quiet words as she ascended the stairs, but she did not miss the extended hand Remus offered to Draco before the unlikely pair disappeared from her line of sight.

The next morning, Remus had left to meet with trusted members of the Order. They all agreed that he would not impart Dumbledore's true loyalties just yet; there was still a war to be fought and strategy was needed. Sides had to be realigned, but Hermione remained just as determined to bring Hogwarts' Headmaster to justice for his crimes.

Remus returned from his visits the evening before the full moon. He was still amazed he no longer carried the weight of his curse and moved with more energy. Remus praised the werewolf Gods for giving Hermione the  _ame de loups_. He felt re-born now that his physical sickness had been lifted. The moon would still force a physical change, but it would no longer give them ill-health in the days leading up to it. And he could shift at will!

Hermione was glad she had been able to lift some of the afflictions her former professor had dealt with for so long.

"Any news?" Harry pushed the latest edition of the _Prophet_  he had been reading aside at Remus' arrival. Blaise and Luna sat in the corner playing Wizard's Chess but quickly looked up. Daphne who had been quietly reading, set her book aside while Draco and Hermione emerged from the kitchen.

"I've spoken with a few members: Andromeda, Ted, and Kingsley. Most are hard to track down now that Grimmauld Place is no longer available. I gather we'll receive an owl or fire-call shortly with the new date and location of our next meeting. You can proceed with telling others about Dumbledore's true loyalties if you still wish to do so there."

"I do," Hermione affirmed, after glancing about the room. "The sooner the better, I think."

Remus continued, "I've also heard some troubling news from Kingsley today. The DMLE picked up a straggler, a werewolf belonging to the Fenrir's pack. His name is inconsequential, but the information they gleaned from him is disturbing."

The room bristled at the mention of Fenrir, Voldemort's personal attack dog. If there was information on Fenrir's movements, they wanted to know about it.

"Did he say something?" Harry asked.

Remus chose silence, briefly staring at his boots, before lifting his head to answer. But instead of answering Harry, Remus zeroed in on Hermione.

"What is it?" Hermione breathed, her fingers catching the hem of her shirt, anticipating the worst.

"The werewolves," Remus answered gravelly. "They're headed for Northcote Road, just outside of London," he regarded her with sad eyes.

Without a word, Hermione quickly grabbed her wand from the kitchen and started for the door. Draco wore a look of confusion, but Harry leaped into action behind her.

"Hermione, wait!" Harry implored.

"It's my parents, Harry. Fenrir's going after them. They won't be able to protect themselves." Hermione tugged her sleeve out of his grasp, grabbing a few essential items and her cardigan.

"I'm not trying to stop you," Harry stated plainly. "I'm going with you." He turned to the others who had stood from their seats as well. "We all are."

Hermione looked around, her eyes wavering with emotion as she met the eyes of her mates and pack. Worry for her parents and nerves for the impending fight made her falter, but she kept her posture rigid with resolution. "Let's go then," she gave the silent order.

The room burst into activity as wands were grabbed and jackets pulled on. They were not ready for a battle so soon after the attack on Hogwarts, but they would meet it head on.

Remus looked torn as he addressed Hermione. "Do you want me to fire-call the Order, the Weasleys perhaps? The Ministry has a sentry standing guard in the area, but they cannot act until Fenrir attacks. Even if it is imminent, an attack is not guaranteed."

"You can try. I don't know who'll show up, though. Besides, we'll know he's there long before they do." Hermione shook his head. "No, it's best we handle him alone. I don't want someone else to be bitten because of him," Hermione replied as she hastily pushed her feet into her trainers.

Remus grabbed Hermione by the arm, the urgency cold in his voice. "Fenrir knows you possess the  _ame de loups_  and you can bet he will be prepared to face you this time around. Be on your guard and show them no mercy. Because you will be given none." Remus released her. Over her shoulder, Hermione could make out Narcissa quickly giving the others hugs. She held Draco a touch longer than the others.

Hermione nodded head once, feeling steel nerves envelop her once more. She gave Remus a quick hug before following her pack out of the house and down the path. Nightfall gave them the perfect cover to Apparate to Hermione's childhood home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience between updates. I love you all! X


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

Daphne Greengrass wished it were as simple as transfiguring her life into someone else's. She could easily glamour her features. After her younger sister, Astoria, had started at Hogwarts, both would take turns glamouring each other's faces for fun during school holidays. A change of hair or eye color there, a longer nose here, just enough to make their mother jump in fright when they appeared for supper.

Daphne wondered if her family would recognize her now with her hair pulled up in a ponytail, her glasses sliding down her nose from nervous sweat. No longer dressed in proper dresses and robes, she now wore dusty leggings and jumpers. She had desperately wanted to be free from the coming war if only to spend one more holiday playing tricks on her mother with her sister. She had blissfully taken the warning signs for granted while at Hogwarts.

But the war had found them even there and before she knew it, she had given her allegiance to the Light with a solemn vow to Hermione Granger. The Slytherin in her often thought of quietly slipping away from the newly-formed pack of Hogwarts' students, using her prowess with glamour charms to alter her physical features. Hermione's pack was too new. They fought amongst each other. Even the added presence of Mrs. Malfoy didn't abate her fear that the forces they faced were too powerful to overcome.

Her mind ran through the plausible scenarios: she could hide in neutrality until things died down, someplace far from the reach of the Dark Lord. But as soon as Professor Lupin had returned with grave news on the movements of Fenrir's pack, she found herself without hesitation jumping to run to her  _Lupa's_  defense, desertion far from her mind.

Daphne would go because her Lupa deemed it so. The mental pull of Hermione's call was hard to ignore; it could physically push her to her knees when backed by emotion, which currently ran at an all-time high. Even though she didn't know Hermione Granger well, Daphne would protect her as best she could.

That still didn't stop her Slytherin heart from beating a ridiculous pace as they Apparated away from Cardiff. It insisted on self-perseverance and to leave (she had her Apparition license, finally) the battle to soldiers who wanted to fight.

Daphne was not a soldier.

Blaise squeezed her hand briefly as their feet hit the cemented ground. They were off. Blaise held her hand as they ran, sending her a look of understanding as if he could read her fear and nervousness. Daphne tightened her free hand about her wand. She met his gaze and allowed him to pull her forward. On alert, they scanned the Muggle neighborhood for any danger; but to her, it was all strange and new.

If she had more time, Daphne would have taken the time to explore the quaint row of houses, decorated with odd items amongst the front lawns, but the group sped past vine-covered fences and large, steel carriages covered in glass parked in neat little rows.

She was not yet ready to fight. Her heart raced beneath her chest. They had just escaped a surprise attack at Hogwarts. There hadn't been enough time to recover from that attack and now, they had ushered into another. War did not grant them a reprieve and Daphne could only pray that her pack would emerge as victorious as before. More like lucky, she thought with a frown.

Running low to the ground, the pack hid behind one of the large steel carriages ("Cars," Blaise called them). They paused, listening for any sound of movement. Their heads whipped in various directions as they scanned the surrounding area. But all Daphne could hear was the pounding of her heartbeat about to burst from her chest. She stuffed the uneasiness of what was to come to the corner of her mind as Harry whispered orders to them all.

"Hermione's house is the next one over. We'll move in pairs. We don't want to alarm the Grangers," Harry spoke authoritatively.

Daphne could see the worry lines all over Hermione's face at Harry's mention of her parents. The curly-haired witch lifted her head over the end of the steel carriage, straining to peer into a house filled with light.

"It looks like they're home," Hermione murmured. "I'll go in first after we circle round."

"I don't think Fenrir's pack is here yet," Luna whispered, her pale hair reflecting in the moonlight. Daphne absentmindedly wondered why Luna didn't wear a hat. Her hair stood out like a beacon and would be the first thing to give them away.

"We would have smelled them as soon as we arrived, if they were," Draco answered, a sour look on his face.

"Still, we can't burst into my parents' house like this! They will know something's happened," Hermione persisted amid the discussion.

Hermione pulled on Daphne's mind, her urgency great. Her  _Lupa's_  presence weighed on the back of her skull, like a headache about to crest.  _Daphne and Luna, you two take the side, near the windows. Blaise, you're with Draco 'round back. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Blaise and Daphne, you're of age, so if you need to use magic you two strike first. No doubt the Ministry will find out sooner or later we're here, but I want to give us as much time as possible. Be on the lookout — Remus may have sent members of the Order as backup._

Then Hermione turned towards her mates, and Daphne could not hear as the trio spoke to each other, but she could tell by their grim features that whatever they were speaking about was serious. Daphne turned her head out of privacy at the intimate embrace they gave each other, and with a given hand signal, they were off.

Daphne and Luna took off to the right, while the others disappeared into the darkness. They did not run as not to draw attention to themselves but walked cautiously between the houses. Daphne carefully pushed her wand into her sleeve. She was very curious to peek inside the windows and determine how Muggles lived without magic. Luna seemed to have the same fascination as she, as both paused outside a window, attracted to the blue glare emitted from a large box inside one Muggle's parlor room. The box roared with moving pictures and the two blondes turned to peer at one another.  
"Ingenious, these Muggles," Luna giggled quietly. "If only I have some quill and parchment. This would make a most excellent article for  _The Quibbler_."

Daphne rolled her eyes playfully, quite aware of her partner's quirks. Quickly, she sobered as they moved on from the window. Remembering what they were there for, Daphne tugged on the witch's hand.

As the two skimmed the darkness easily, Daphne halted their steps. Both leaned against the house waiting for the other pair's call that all was clear. Hesitantly, Daphne whispered to Luna beside her, "Luna … have you ever thought about, you know … leaving?" She sounded like a frightened child, scared of the terror at night, but she  _was_  terrified at the moment. They stood against the brick siding, two figures cloaked in darkness. "Our families are out there," Daphne voiced her uneasiness into the air, hoping the night could mask her fear. "They don't know what's happened to us, where we've gone, if we're still alive …" she trailed off, her courage flitting away.

"Having a choice  _would_  make all of this easier, I suppose," Luna wondered beside her. "Harry would choose to have his parents back. Draco would choose … well, I suppose he would choose for many things to be different. I'm not sure about Blaise. He seems so easy-going, either way," she surmised distantly.

"So, you would choose this?" Daphne asked, her resentment evident. "To fight? We're not even out of school and we're facing off against werewolves and Death Eaters!" Daphne hissed into the night. "Why were we chosen and not someone else?"

Luna shrugged, although Daphne could not see it. "Did you know, in a single day, we make a thousand and one choices, Daph? Each and every one of them is by design, I believe. You are either meant to choose path A or path B. There's no going back and choosing the other path because you don't fancy the one you're on. You just have to keep pushing forward until you make a new one, you see. I don't find it odd that we're here and others are not. I think of my father sometimes," she finished abruptly, the change in topic throwing Daphne for a loop. There was a touch of nostalgia at the mention of her father.

Quietly waiting a moment for Luna to continue, the Slytherin asked thoughtfully, "Do you miss him?"

Again, Daphne could not see it, but Luna nodded beside her. "It happens to us all eventually. We're meant to move away from our childhood homes and build new families of our own." Luna placed a warm hand on Daphne's arm then. "Our family just found us a little sooner than the others." Daphne could hear the smile in the Ravenclaw's voice.

Blaise signaled that the perimeter was clear and in the little time remaining, Daphne pondered on Luna's words as they moved around the perimeter of Hermione's childhood home. It was not by any means a large estate, as Daphne was accustomed to in her world, but it was decent enough. The Grangers had accumulated some wealth judging by its appearances and tidy yard. They were two cars parked in front of the house and Daphne could only deduce they did not come cheap. She made a mental note to ask Blaise about them later.

Since Luna could not yet perform magic without the Ministry catching wind out it, Daphne performed the revealing spell. There were no other magical signatures present besides their pack. What if Lupin's intelligence from the DMLE had been incorrect? What if this was a trap to lure them away? Daphne's mind raced and the eerily calm neighborhood did nothing to appease her worries.

Harry and Hermione had already gone inside. The White Tie raced up the front steps and through the front door behind Draco. Daphne could only imagine the shock the Grangers had received at their daughter's sudden appearance. Whatever shock they experienced at seeing Hermione and her childhood friend, Harry, would only multiply at the influx of teenagers barging into their house at such a late hour.

Hermione's parents halted the intense discussion they were having with Harry and Hermione as their pack filed in. Blaise spoke clearly to them all, mindful not to alert the Muggles.

"Everything's clear outside," Blaise informed them.

"What's clear?" Hermione's mother asked, alarmed. Daphne noted she was a lovely older woman with dark brown chestnut curls. In fact, she did not look close to anything Daphne had pictured Muggles to be while growing up. She looked quite ordinary, in fact.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Her father pressed from beside his wife, his eyebrows drawn together in question and suspiciousness. "Hermione, what is going on? What's happened to your eyes?" He waved a hand to her supernatural eyes.

Hermione clearly hadn't had much success while Daphne and the others were outside. "There isn't time to explain, Dad. It's imperative that you and Mum leave now. We will bring you someplace safe. Just grab what you can and we'll come back for the rest later."

Mrs. Granger clucked in disapproval, much like Daphne's mother would when Mrs. Greengrass grew cross with her daughters. "I'm going to need more information than that, dear. We weren't due to pick you up from King's Cross for nearly a month and now you've arrived in the middle of the night stating your father and I need to leave? I don't understand. Who are these people you've brought with you?" She indicated to Daphne and the others.

Never believing the day would come, Daphne felt uncomfortable in the presence of a Muggle. A cold clip of her childhood superiority rushed to the surface, but a quick look from Blaise silenced her. He probably felt the same way, but they were here to help, not escalate the situation. So for the sake of progress, Daphne swallowed the emotion down.

Hermione looked pleadingly to the others that had joined the room and sighed. "A lot's happened at Hogwarts, Mum."  
Her mother looked at her daughter shrewdly. "Does this have anything to do with that group you were fighting last year? The ones that nearly killed you?"

And even though Daphne wanted nothing to do with Death Eaters, she couldn't help but feel guilty at the mention of the Battle at the Department of Mysteries. While it was all over the papers last year, she remembered laughing at some crude remark Pansy had made about Hermione's injuries. Daphne didn't know she would become friends with the witch nearly a year later. The pureblood superiority she had casually let rule her life suddenly felt like an oppressing weight on her neck. It tasted like acid on her tongue.

Mrs. Granger looked at the White Tie as if they were responsible for the attack. It caused Daphne to look at the tips of her trainers. Her ears burned. Luna's earlier words on choices repeated in her head...

But gratefully, Hermione drew her parents' attention away from them. "Mum, they're with me. In fact, we're  _all_  here to protect you. There are some bad people headed this way." The urgency rushed back into her voice. "Which is why you have to leave  _now_!"

"Well, just hold on a minute," her father interrupted, thin glasses steady on his nose. "Hermione, you've assured us that you were safe at school. In fact, Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore did as well. Why didn't you tell us about this latest attack?" her father questioned sharply. He missed the groups' simultaneous flinch as he named Hogwarts' Headmaster.

Hermione looked torn as she addressed her father. "It happened less than a week ago. Everyone in the magical world is trying to make sense of it … There's a lot you don't know. We're just beginning to find out for ourselves."

"Then tell us what  _do_  you know, young lady," Mr. Granger ordered. "If you want us to pick up everything we own and leave in the dead of night, then I'm going to need a thorough explanation." He sat on a chair, one half of a matching pair of wingback in the sitting room. His posture said he was ready for his daughter's explanation, whether she was ready or not.

After a glance at Harry, who nodded in return, Hermione took a deep breath, ready to explain all, but a shattering of glass tore a shriek from Daphne's mouth instead. Distantly, Daphne heard Hermione's scream as well.

"NO!" the witch screamed, but it was too little too late. A skinny black wolf had launched through the room's window. In the resulting confusion amid the spray of grass, the beast attacked the closest target to him — Mr. Granger. Teeth sunk into defenseless, exposed flesh and after a split-second of stunned disbelief, Harry reacted.

Mr. Granger slumped to the side, his eyes wide in terror while his mouth hung open in pain. The rogue wolf released him, blasted back through the house by a jet of light from Harry's wand.

Daphne screamed through her hands as inky torrents of rich, red blood spewed from Mr. Granger's neck. It stained the part of the chair crimson and dripped onto the floor. The wolf had torn a chunk of his neck out. Daphne knew instantly that it was a killing strike — no human, magical or not, could survive such an attack.

Mr. Granger slumped to the ground lifeless and Hermione and her mother screamed again horrified. Their hands desperately tried to cover their mouths and smother their shock. Draco and Blaise ran outside, positive the wolf was not alone.

Daphne could barely hear over the women's cries and she bit her lip to keep from grieving with them. Her vision turned watery as she watched the gruesome scene unfold before her. What was she to do? What was she  _to do_? She turned her head at the gore and squeezed her eyes shut out of respect, but she couldn't stop her ears from hearing the anguished cries of Hermione and her mother.

Luna's hand suddenly grasped hers in support and nervously, Daphne turned to look at the Ravenclaw; the same watery sadness reflected in her light blue orbs.

The small moment of understanding would not last long as a fierce howl unexpectedly erupted from the back of the house. It came from a distance but sounded loud in their sensitive ears.

Instantly, the remaining teenagers jumped to attention as the howls inched closer.

It was a call to battle. Daphne wiped the sleeve of her jumper swiftly across her face and took a second to right her glasses.

Right.  _Choices_.

She had made this choice, despite the events that preceded it. She had to be ready. Because there wasn't another path to choose when one equaled certain death.

Draco rushed back inside, his trainers skidding through the pool of blood on the floor. His eyes darted quickly from the weeping Hermione to Harry for guidance on what to do next. Daphne could see the ice storm whirling within Draco's silver orbs.

Before Draco could open his mouth, Harry nodded harshly. "Right. We'll cut them off." Harry's voice was thick with emotion.

Momentarily confused, Daphne realized the two must have spoken to each other telepathically. She watched as Harry gently stepped towards Hermione, his hands eager to hold her. He wrapped them lightly around her shoulders.

"Hermione, come on, love. We have to go," he whispered through tears. "It's not safe here," Harry eased carefully. He stepped in the blood seeping from Mr. Granger's fallen corpse.

"I can't leave him …" Hermione sobbed and the sound rent everyone's heart in two. The ricocheting pain from her  _Lupa_  made Daphne's heartache. Blaise shifted uncomfortably on his feet as Luna rubbed her chest gingerly.

They all felt Hermione's sorrow.

Harry dropped to a knee beside the grieving pair of women caught in anguished wails. He rubbed a comforting hand across Hermione's back and pressed his head into her shoulder as he whispered soothing words of comfort. "Hermione, I'm so sorry …" But Harry stopped short as the grief-stricken witch jerked forward, pushing his head off of her shoulder. Sorrow ran down her face, but it masked another feeling rushing towards the surface.

A budding resolution marked her distraught features.

"I'm sorry it's come to this," Hermione whispered back.

Harry jumped startled at her voice; it was a hollow thing, but Hermione wasn't speaking to him. She had turned to her mother. With an unyielding determination, Hermione lifted a shaking hand to the woman's temple.

The elder woman's sniffles abated as her curly head turned towards her daughter. "Hermione, what's going on ...?"

" _Obliviate_."

And the question died on Mrs. Granger's lips.

The elder woman's confused gaze melted into a blank stare. Hermione dropped her wand then, the shakiness clear in her voice. "G-go," Hermione pushed out, the panic returning as she hastily hoisted the woman by the arms from the ground. "GO! There's been an … an attack on your husband, Mrs. Wilkins! You have to alert the constables!"

She pushed the woman away from the grizzly scene with both arms. Tears still ran across splotchy cheeks. "Go, NOW!" she pleaded, emotion raw in her glowing eyes.

Daphne recognized the confusion all over the Muggle woman, but the sight of her husband on the floor propelled her from the room. Mrs. Granger, or Mrs. Wilkins now, didn't look back once at Hermione. The woman didn't realize she had just run from her only daughter. A daughter who had removed all traces of herself from the traumatized woman's life.

Hermione wiped the back of her sleeve furiously across her face. After a quiet moment, she murmured to them all, "Let's go." Hermione gave a reflective stare towards the body of her father, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Then she looked up to the group, nodding. She sniffled loudly and walked out of the room. Her wand arm hung limply at her side.

Draco immediately followed and caught up with her. He gave a tight embrace across her shoulders and dropped a kiss to her forehead. Harry stuck like glue to her other side.

In awe of the intimacy and care the  _ame de loups_  exuded for each other, Daphne could only fall in line behind them with Luna and Blaise.

It was then that she noticed it. Little droplets of water were speckled across the wooden floor. Larger puddles appeared as they neared the front of the house. Where had the water come from? It wasn't raining outside. Daphne followed the trail with acute eyesight. The puddles stopped at Hermione, who stood on the porch of what-used-to-be her childhood home.

The witch's wand arm was sopping wet with water where it was dry a second ago. Water ran over her fist, down her wand, and onto the ground as howls on the night air grew louder.

Only Daphne knew from experience, it wasn't water.


End file.
